Normalness

Yes, I enjoy making up words. I'm a deep thoughtful Irish Wolfhound who is always thinking. Thinking about my next nap, my next treat, my next meal, my next pet. Yes, those thoughts consume my days and nights.

Finally, the humans have finished their STUPID project that left me seriously neglected. I am now the center of attention. Actually, maybe more than center as I take up most of the space wherever I lounge. It has been pretty hot out here and as you great big dogs know, we are not the most efficient creatures at cooling down. It takes a whole hell of a lot of panting to cool down 150 pounds of dog. That is where my servant, I mean Mom, comes into play. Her extremely important responsibility is to keep me cool and comfortable. (And fed. And loved.) This entails feeding me trays of ice cubes. Yes, that is right, trays. I have a unique way of chewing these fine cooling devices. Basically, I take the ice cube, tilt my head back, and chomp the ice in the corner of my mouth where my MASSIVE molars live. Usually, I few small pieces slip out. If I am lucky, they land on my remaining front leg (See. That was the sympathy card I just played.) and that cooling device called ice melts and cools me. If I am not so lucky and for some reason, Mommy does not appreciate this, the ice melts on the wooden floor and leaves little lakes throughout the living room. Not my problem. I am cool and relaxed at this point.

So far, my Public Service Announcement has worked and there have been no explosions; however, I have heard rumours of electrical explosions in the sky where there is a bright light and then a BOOM. Mommy has told me that those types of explosions cannot be stopped even with a stern letter by yours truly. I'm thinking a nice glass of Irish whiskey might be in order to help me cope. And a valium. And ear plugs. And a nice well stocked bunker approximately 1,000 feet below ground.