yesterday was a cold day, biting cold. We walked. Paws, fingers and toes ice cold and stiff.
Humans. Something is not quite right in their heads, if you ask me. Now, there’s a perfectly fine lamp-post — appropriate for sending and receiving pee-mail, or perhaps for a few moments of meditation on wonderful and interesting scents — but what, I ask, what are the humans doing!? They don’t get it. The higher truths will forever elude them, unless they take up the study of canineosophy. And even then. They are not dogs; they are inferior beings on two legs. No tail. No nose. Hopeless. Gazing unintelligently into the void, they are — and sometimes with a bizarre gadget blocking what ought to their most precious asset, their noses.