Albuquerque Monsoons: The Dog Days of Summer

Spent the weekend digging. It’s cool to dig. No, really, quite literally; it’s cool to dig. And then I lie quietly… in wait… of the rainstorm… impending on the fenced horizon…

It rained. Monsoons are here and I have a mud spot on my forehead. It’s all so very East-Indian… I’ve been begging for a bath and a shave. What’s a guy gotta do to get a bath and a shave in this dump? My personal approach is to gently remind my peeps by liking between their toes. They giggle. It’s not funny. I have an image to maintain! Cute ain’t easy, dontcha know?!

Last month, Miss Natalie shaved my belly and bum so close that I got a rash. A rash like that is like the Chicken Pox (A Pox on chickens!!) and I just could not leave it alone. I felt like a cannibal. They coned me. It was super embarrassing and Q laughed at me constantly. Lulu told me it was for my own good. I don’t care about either of them. I reminded Q that he constantly suffers the indignity of being carried around like a sack of potatoes. He sneered at me, slashed the screen door, and sulked under the apricot tree.

The water dish is difficult enough to navigate as it hits me at the throat when I attempt to drink. Try doin’ it with a plastic cone on yer head. I had to stand on my tippy-paws just to reach the water and, horror of horrors, once I lifted my head out of the bowl, an entire cups’ worth of water sloshed into my beard. My beard is the only clean area on my body despite my best licking efforts. I worry about my bum… Miss Natalie says it’s better than worrying my bum. Whatev… I feel so… so… UNclean!

People! People!! Give me a bath already!

My buddy Bo, the neighbor dog who lives six houses away, always comes for a visit during these monsoonal thunderstorms. At the slightest hint of thunder (Remember, our hearing is so much better than yours and his is exquisitely magnificent! He can hear a rainstorm forming ten miles away!) he freaks out and shows up at our door. My peeps call his peeps and then we wait for his peeps while my peeps debate whether they should put us all in crates and go have their lunch as previously planned. It’s all a little confusing and makes me feel tense cause they say things like, “Yeah, but, he might just chew his paws off trying to get out.” I don’t know what they are talking about ’cause I’ve never tried to get out of my crate. Oh. Wait. Maybe they mean Bo? Hmmm… Never thought of that until just now.

During the waiting, I like to show off my superior dancing skills. Lulu is never amused by this but will, at times, allow me to dance along her back while barking maniacally. Bo just looks at me and then attempts to mark the blue chair. My peeps hate that; I laugh at his intentions. Then the cat hisses and the chase is on! Lulu tries to join but is too big to get under the couches. Bo and I work together to flush the cat out from hiding. Yesterday, Q ran across Miss Natalie’s napping body and nicked her with his claws. She was fit to be tied and ushered all of us out into the rainstorm. That only lasted about five minutes ’cause Bo was running around the yard blaring, “THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!! CALL ANIMAL PLANET!! CALL CESAR!! SOS!!”

God, I love it when Bo comes to visit.

D-Man calls Bo, “Boat”. He doesn’t seem to mind ’cause he’s preoccupied with rainstorm intelligence and reports of impending doom. He can be kind of a downer sometimes. I still like him though ’cause he lets D-Man chase him around the house. It gets me off that hook, fo’ sho’!

A’aight… people! I gotta nap. I’m strung out from this morning’s activities. Time to chill.

Peace.

 

Out.