My dog

The top of her head always smells like dry toast.

She howls “barooooo! baroooo!” whenever ambulances or fire trucks go by (but not police cars).

She can’t actually draw, but she inspires us to, sometimes.

She was uncharacteristically nice to all the sad little yorkies at the dog park this weekend, making me to wonder if dogs can feel pity, too.

She enjoys any and all vegetables, except the ones in the squash family.

She’ll eat canned mandarin oranges, too, but not a fresh banana, no matter how ripe.

Sometimes she’s afraid of the school bus that comes down our street, and sometimes not.

She used to be afraid of bicycles, but has decided instead that skateboards are the true menace to society.

She has a heating pad in her crate at night, and on her bed in the office, and a heated blanket on the couch.

She’s a pretty cool dog.

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