
NQBR but it occurred to me this morning that dogs are bums.
I mean bums in the old sense of living on handouts, doing no real work, imposing on people and generally being a drain on society.
I took my dogs with me to the barn this morning and they did their best to shed out their entire summer coats in my car while I rode.
Then I brought them home and Rufus continued his only mode of useful work which consists of staring at me relentlessly the whole time I'm home.

Everywhere I go I turn around and see him sitting and staring at me. I believe he expects me to explode, and wants to be there as an eye-witness.
Bums. Why do we adore them so??!


