Hey, Sports Fans, it’s Friday afternoon and I’m hangin’ out on the front porch on Worsham Street while contemplating the meaning of life.  Well, maybe not the meaning of life exactly, but I am thinking a lot  about SEX so does that count?  Heh, heh.   Let’s say it does.   At any rate, here’s the deal.  I find myself strangely attracted to Spike, the Stray Dog that currently shares my yard and casa which is Spanish for house.

Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking.  Just last time I was talking about Spike the Spoiler and Spike the Sneak and generally out of sorts with having an Interloper in the ‘Hood and Yet, I’ve grown accustomed to his… spunk.  It almost makes the day begin.  I was serenely independent and content before we met.  Surely, I can always be that way again and Yet, I’ve grown accustomed to his…balls.   Paw Snaps!   That’s it – this Dude has BALLS and I’m not talkin’ about tennis balls, Bro.  I’m talkin’ Equipment with a Capital E.   No Snip, snip for him.   Nosirree.

Plus, he is a STRAY DOG which has its own appeal, if you catch my drift.  Maybe The Red Man prefers his paramours a little on the Trashy Side.  Hump, hump, hump.  Somebody STOP ME – I meant to say Hmmm….hmmm…hmmm.   I am OUT OF CONTROL.

I’m too sexy for my halter, too sexy for my halter, too sex-y… oh, yeah.  I totally have the shaggy look going on for me right now since the old woman Slow has neglected to take me to the groomers lately, but I think it’s working for me.  This young Pup follows me everywhere and worships the ground I walk on which is, of course, how it should be.

Whoa, what’s this?  Spike’s going where?  To the VET?

OMG, Dude, get outta the truck – GET OUTTA THE TRUCK NOW!   She’s taking you to the Place of Scalpels and Scissors and you will never be the same…never be…the…same.   There he goes.   Sigh.

Oh, well.   So much for the meaning of life.  At least, I still have Pretty who spices up my world and gives me Pretty Pets when I’m with her plus Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson on The Closer every weekday afternoon.

Adios, Amigos.  I hope you discover the meaning of life for yourselves this weekend before you put the finishing touches on those pesky old income tax returns.  April 15th. is here.  Never ask for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.

Get me outta here, Percy…