One day, a rich guy from New York was driving in his BMW up through central Maine. He has a bit of highway hypnosis and suddenly runs out of gas while he's not paying attention to the guage. He thinks he remembers seeing a gas station a few miles back, so he's about to get out and walk there when a huge rot wiler runs up to the car starts barking furiously.

Just as he's wondering how he's going to get out of this one, when he sees a man walking out from around the house on the road, dressed in standard Maine Redneck Flannel and jeans.

"Excuse me, Sir, does your dog bite?"

The Mainer, shaking his head, says "No suh, my dog does not bite."

"Are you sure?"

"Yessuh, my dawg does not bite."

"You're positive?"

"Yessuh"

So the New York guy opens the door and steps out onto the road, and the dog takes a nice bite out of his leg. The New York guy promptly jumps back into the car and slams the door, and looks at the Mainer and says furiously "I thought you said your dog didn't bite!"

The Mainer, looking as stoic as before, simply shrugs and says "T'ain't my dog."