Consumption of Things

The end of the school year and the ensuing packing up has had me absolutely insane, so my 'write *something* daily' has failed a bit. Anyway. I'm mentally writing something up about the whole Newsweek calamity, but that's going to take more time and slightly fewer boxes/suitcases/etc surrounding me on my bedroom floor, threatening to engulf me like oddly-cubic amoeba. So instead, I'm going to talk about dogs.

Dogs, as everyone knows*, are great. They come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. They come in all different personalities, from the mellow old labrador just hanging out on his front porch, to the young and yippy bichon which literally is incapable of staying still if it's awake. You've got professional dogs, who are smart and calm and observant, and you've got dogs like my own beloved mutt, who, after ten years of living in our house, still seems befuddled when she goes sliding across the hardwood floors into the wall.

All dogs are great. They've all got their flaws, and their redemptions. But there are different degrees of Great Dogs. Some specimens simply embody what it is to be a Great Dog, and boy, do they rock. For example: the Prince's dog in The Little Mermaid. For those adult-types who can't recall, let me introduce you to Max (scroll down; he's the furry guy). Man, is that a good dog. Just look at him: the fur, the nose, the tongue...You can't even see his eyes, but you know he's totally looking up at his master. He's content to sit and wait, and knows that, soon enough, he'll get a pat on the head or a treat or maybe even some horseplay, and man, that'll be the best thing ever!

He's a good dog. He's loyal, he's friendly, and a little dopey looking. This dog, ladies and gentlemen, rocks.
*if you don't know this, you have no soul