My most recent obsession: dogs.
First, some late-breaking news. It seems one of our whippets is missing. That’s not one of MY whippets because I have neither a whippet nor anyone to make it OUR. That is, of course, if you don’t take into account my long-standing invisible friend, The Apostle Paul. Yes, THAT Aspostle Paul. It’s a long story. Be that as it may, a 3-year-old whippet named Vivi has apparently bolted from its cage at JFK Airport after having won a merit award at the Westminster Kennel Club’s doggie extravaganza in New York, New York. I suppose Vivi just wants to have fun. No?
I had to take a look at this Web site to remind me what a whippet looked like. They’re cute dogs, decended from greyhounds and terriers, with a pleasant-looking, angular snout.
A bigger contrast there could not be between the whippet and the bull terrier, which is the breed of Rufus, that won the Westminister. Here is what the New York Daily News had to say about Rufus:
“Rufus may have won the Westminster Kennel Club show, but plenty of New Yorkers think the bull terrier with a jumbo snout could just as easily fetched the ugly stick.”
Ouch! Now that was uncalled for.
What put me on this road to Hell that is paved with obsessions is a little dog I saw on my walk this morning.
The dog was tied up in someone’s backyard and was yapping a way. I can’t say I blame the poor thing. I don’t particularly like to be tied up and left in the backyard either, although … Well, let’s just skip that thought. This dog was a Doberman in miniature (a Miniature Doberman perhaps?)It looked and barked like a Doberman that had been crossed with a Chihuahua. What do you call those dogs anyway? A Doberhuahua. No, that sounds like an electric guitar pedal. Nonetheless, I thought the dog was rather odd looking. As someone who used to share space with a Doberman-Great Dane mix who went by the name of Cochise, the little dog I saw just somehow didn’t look quite Doberman-ish (If that is a word. If not, what ya going to do about it?)
I just hope Vivi is safe and sound, and Rufus finds true love. Meanwhile, the Apostle Paul and I will just go grab a bite for supper. I swear it will be the last supper … that we have today.
(Ed. note: Perhaps the last supper reference is too inside baseball. Nonetheless, Paul reminds me of Billy Preston, the so-called “Fifth Beatle.” Okay, go pour through your theological texts and get back to me. And please, don’t wait up.)