Work has sapped the blogging right out of me. So, this is random. I’ll just spew forth on the page…whatever I think of I will type…ooooh dangerous! Thank goodness for editing features. Like I could ever write something without editing. I’m a constant editor in that I can barely finish a sentence before I start messing with it. I’m making a conscious effort now not to change anything until I’m finished with this, but you can bet your sweet bippy (remember that phrase, all you older than 40ish people?) I will be changing something before it’s over. Yep, already did!
I wish I could sneak away and get my camera right now, but if I do, the Kodak moment will be gone. My dog, Fritz, is lying on his tummy froggy-style, with his back two legs splayed out as if he has not a bone in them. If he was a person, you would call this position “the splits.” Maybe he’s a doggie gymnast when I’m not at home. After all, he’s agile, flexible, speedy, and somewhat graceful. If only he could nail the mount and dismount. Poor little guy does try on occasion. Apparently, the “surgery” worked nicely on him, because he’s only amorous when Zoe (my other dog) has been in the pool. Something about Zoe’s wet fur turns him into a spotted Pepe Le Pew (another dated reference), but without the fumes. He chases her relentlessly when she steps out of the pool. “Mmmmmm, Zoe, vous êtes un chien très sexy… permettez-moi de “sniffer” de votre queue… Je tiens à ma pratique la gymnastique …” Tis the language of love, or lust in Pepe’s, er Fritz’s, case.
To put it in human terms, Fritz must envision Zoe in this way as she steps out of the pool:
You could also say Fritz resembles the irresistible Dudley as he first lays eyes on Bo in the movie “10.” I’m picturing Fritz, er Dudley, jumping from towel to towel across the molten sand to get closer to Zoe, er Bo (my absolute favorite scene). If you’re under 40, you probably don’t even know these people…
My, how far I’ve digressed!