Stripes

May 12, 2025

I glanced over at my ol’ man, lazing in his chair and figured he’s in the same state I am.

We were enjoying a relaxing Sunday afternoon, sitting in the sunshine with nary a care in the world. It was nice to feel the warmth of the sun on my back, the calmness of the trees, and no worries about food or water. All was well with the world.

And then a little dog walked by. That interruption threw my relaxation right out the window so to speak, as we were sitting outside, which doesn’t have windows. I barked and barked. My buddy Archie was with me, and he also sounded the alarm. My ol’ man continued to lie back in his chair and my missus kept her nose in her book, which is an odd place for a nose, but what do I know?

That little dog and his master continued their walk, and we barked until they were out of sight. I mean, that’s what we do. But the mood of the afternoon was knocked askew, and whose fault was it? That little hot dog sashaying along. There ought to be a law.

Relaxing. You probably think that’s all we dogs do, but you should know we have to regain our strength and harbor our vocal cords because you never know when the next intruder will appear.

We managed to get through the afternoon with only a few more interruptions. Archie and I took turns lolling on my cushion which the ol’ man had tossed out on the deck. It’s not big enough for two, so I let him snooze for a bit, then when he got up for a slug of water, I took over. Before I lie down, I always give it a good sniff, just in case.

When it’s his turn on the cushion, I like to post myself with a good view of the ‘hood, resting my snout on the bar. And when my ol’ man opts to go inside, that’s an invitation to hop onto his chair, just like Archie does with my cushion. Nothing wrong with that, folks.

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