Sometimes on Saturday, after a long, muggy morning walk under the marine layer that blankets the area in which we live with perspiration, we like to take the afternoon off to work on our PhD in Rubber Bones Relaxation and air out our privates.
Wake Me Up When The Humidity Is Over,
Sometimes on Saturday, after we are woken by the sound of a violent crow fight in the yard next door, we like to keep the rest of the day simple by doing the things we love best: barking, drinking water, barking some more, finding new and revolutionary lounging positions, barking in low tones as opposed to high and staring at our mother with our big brown eyes while she reads on the deck, hoping she can tell that we appreciate her existence in a way that is inexplicable even though we rarely listen to a goddamn word she says.
Ain’t It Great To Be Alive,
Sometimes on Saturday, when the household is quite peaceful and our parents are either reading or sweeping or organizing and the wind is wafting through the windows like a lady that calls out to us, showing us where the Greenies are, we like to get our loungey groove on in our favorite chair and remind ourselves how often things are just right.
Yours In Having a Bitchen Summer,
Laid Back Larry
Sometimes on Saturday, after barely enduring the previous night’s 4th of July horrors, we like to garner solace from our beloved Orangey as we try to wipe the terrifying kabooms, kerplops and kabloweys from our weary little mind.
Warren the Wiped-Out Warrior
Sometimes on Saturday, when we’re attempting to have a snuggly morning by ourselves surrounded by a half dozen of our favorite toys, we are involuntarily summoned downstairs to witness our parents hooting and hollering at the television like insane people and when we dare to come down from the landing we discover that all the hullabaloo has something to do with a person named Serena Williams and a team named Brazil and, quite honestly, we feel the need to keep our distance.
Hold Yer Horses Sports Fans,