I Saw a Dog Today

Not that I don't see dogs all the time. I have a dog. Or, rather, an eighth of a dog. Just yesterday the neighbor's undersized foot-stool was threatening to committ mayhem upon my person if I came one step nearer the fence.

I was driving along today, window down, singing along to Heart's "Straight On," and I saw a truck stop at the four-way stop I was approaching. It caught my attention, because the driver didn't seem to realize it was a four-way and she (he? I think she) just sat there for several seconds until it became apparent that I was also stopping. The dog was in the truck's bed, standing as tall as it could hanging its head over the side in the breeze.

Now, this happens all the time around here, but what caught my attention was the straining that poor animal had to do to get his little pug nose properly in the air. Yep, the lady had a pug in the back of her truck. At first I thought it was a little one, then I saw the mound of fawn-colored fur and realize that he was as big as a medium-sized bulldog. And probably fatter.

I want a pug.

Or maybe a chihuahua.

Or maybe a great Dane.

German shepherds are nice.

I don't really like greyhounds. Too skinny. My friend has one, and the bones on that thing ...

If I'm going to have a smelly, slobbery dog, it will at least be cushy and pettable. And cute. And friendly. And not too smelly.

Maybe I'll just get a cat.