"I'd end up being a weird dog guy. Is that the equivalent to crazy cat lady? I think that'd be me." Which sounded sort of fun, but also like a lot of house cleaning would be involved and Clint was pretty much foursquare against cleaning on the best of days. Which, admittedly, were not his normal sorts of days.
He rolled over on the couch until he was on his stomach, elbows beneath him just to stay a bit elevated. "As much as I'd be down with watching bad tv and eating these tacos until it turns both super late and dangerous, I figure at some point I should get back to my dog."