Wednesday, July 24, 2013
No Prince Albert there, so no Prince Albert here. I'm not going to whine about it, because that's life, right? But for one brief shining moment, I dreamed,
I dreamed that Boz and Willow and Scout and Abby and Louise would see me for who I truly am -- a prince, a sleek black panther, a magical being, a member of the royal family.
It was a lovely dream, and the sky rained Snausages. I don't know if I can convey the beauty of the vision -- green fields filled with tennis balls and turkey carcasses, cat shit, apple cores, buried bones, oh, and lots and lots of pee and all the time in the world to sniff it, and the moon was a giant red Frisbee ...
Then, as TS Eliot said, "Human voices wake us --"
Karin told me they named the prince, George. She petted me on the head and gave me my dish of Science Diet Chow, Designed To Meet All The Nutritional Needs Of Your Chubby Dog.