…the loan officer asks, squinting as he presses a tissue to his sleeve.
“I understand why your dog bit me. But why did she bite the customer?”
The farmer scratches his chin, looks down at the dog, and sighs.
“Well, sir, you see… once she starts collecting debts, she doesn’t discriminate.”
The customer, clutching his ankle, yelps, “Collecting debts?! I don’t even know this man!”
“That’s what they all say,” the farmer replies calmly. “She’s been around bankers too long.”
The loan officer narrows his eyes. “Sir, dogs don’t understand finance.”
The farmer smiles politely. “With all due respect, neither do half the people in this building.”
The dog lets out a low growl, tail wagging like she’s proud of her work.
The farmer continues, “This here’s Daisy. Smartest dog I ever owned. She knows when someone’s stalling, when someone’s lying, and most importantly—when someone says ‘no.’”
The loan officer scoffs. “You’re telling me your dog bit me because I denied your loan?”
“Exactly,” the farmer says. “She doesn’t like rejection. Reminds her of when the vet said she couldn’t have steak anymore.”
The bitten customer groans, “But why me?”
The farmer nods toward him. “You sighed when the officer said no. Daisy sensed pessimism. She’s got zero tolerance for negative cash flow.”
The loan officer pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is ridiculous. Security!”
Before anyone can move, Daisy hops up onto a chair and barks once—sharp and authoritative. The room goes quiet.
The farmer clears his throat. “She also doesn’t like sudden movements. Or authority figures. Or chairs that squeak.”
The customer slowly sits back down.
The loan officer exhales. “Sir, what exactly are you trying to get a loan for?”
The farmer straightens proudly. “A fence.”
“A fence?” the officer asks.
“Yes ma’am. To keep Daisy in… and bankers out.”
Daisy barks approvingly.
The officer hesitates, glances at the bleeding customer, then at her sleeve, then at the dog, who is now staring directly into her soul.
“…How much?” she asks.
The farmer smiles. “Just enough to cover the fence. And maybe a seminar on customer relations.”
The officer types quickly. “Approved.”
The customer gasps. “That’s it? After all this?”
The farmer tips his hat. “See? Persistence pays.”
Daisy wags her tail and hops down, trotting toward the exit.
As the farmer leaves, the loan officer calls after him, “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Does your dog bite everyone who gets denied?”
The farmer chuckles. “No ma’am. Only the ones who say ‘no’ too confidently.”
The officer slumps back in her chair.
From the doorway, the farmer adds, “Oh—and you might want to approve the next few applications.”
“Why?” she asks weakly.
The farmer pats Daisy’s head.
“She’s got a taste for high interest… and she’s still hungry.”