For those of you who don’t indulge in crossword puzzles, the definition of a “roscoe” is an often-used six-across clue that’s an archaic name for a gangster’s revolver or gat.

This is one for all you dog owners out there: Have you ever taken Puddles to a friend’s house and, to your horror, she lives up to her name by piddling a puddle on your host’s living room carpet?

You just never know what you’re going to run into at County Animal Services.

If you’re of a certain age and read Al Capp’s “Li’l Abner” in the comic strips, you may recall a character named Joe Btfsplk, a sweet guy who was so jinxed that he perpetually walked around with a dark cloud over his head.

In a recent column about grudges — which I’ve now been educated are actually pet peeves rather than grudges — I asked readers to send me their own after the piece I wrote about road hogs on Los Osos Valley Road. The following are just a few culled from the mailbag.

I grew up in a San Luis Obispo neighborhood that included a married priest — Father Anthony Kubek, a Hungarian immigrant who practiced Eastern Catholicism.

Cue the “Father Knows Best” theme.

My mother, for all of her wonderful traits and qualities, had one fault that was so indelible, so obvious to others that she eventually grudgingly acknowledged … she could carry a grudge.

To say 14-year-old Meghan Martin has healthy doses of compassion and humanity running through her veins is a vast understatement, if her recent actions to help the homeless using the Prado Day Center are any indication.

So there I was, sitting at the desk of The Cambrian editor Bert Etling, performing a few weeks of vacation relief at our sister weekly, when Methuselah entered the newsroom.