A man went to a psychiatrist and said he was worried that he was a dog.
“It’s terrible,” said the man, “I walk around on all fours, I bark all the time, I howl at the moon, I want to chase every cat I see, and I can’t go past a fire hydrant any more.”
“I think I can help you,” said the psychiatrist. “Lie down on the couch.”
The man replied, “I’m not allowed on the couch.”
[...] bluebird of bitterness: Hair of the dog [...]