All hail the King
We have a code red, I repeat, we have a code red west of Wrigley field, in an apartment with a blue door! My dog, Doc (a.k.a. the King of Shed) has officially made his home in my apartment. He knows which what parts of the kitchen island he prefers chewing on, he has discovered the joy of dragging around my childhood teddy bear (who is now kept up high, where he cannot be eaten), and people on my block know him by name. That is, of course, if you consider "What kind of dog is THAT?!" a name. He has a Pug friend of the same age, named Rufus, who lives down the street (unfortunately Rufus is a butt-sniffer, and Doc tires easily of repetitive behavior in all its forms). He sneezes deliberately to get attention, sometimes to the point of hitting his snout on the hardwood flooring. I love him, that zany, little, sneezing mutt boogerface.
<< Home