Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Pfew Year!


I live at Dog Camp. No shit! Every day I tour the yard seeking the betterment of our four-legged friends. I consider them such, even though they don’t exactly communicate with words, nor have the ability to dispose of their own crap, which we do by shovel and hauling faaaar away from sensitive noses. Here, at Future and Current Race Dog Boarding School, I act as kind of a preschool and kindergarten teacher. There are the eight puppies who won’t listen to a word I say if it’s not a word they associate with food. Hell, they can’t even remember their own names, so hoping for anything more is stretching it. Then there are the teenage dogs who like to make noise at any and every move you make around the yard, and then there are the more seasoned dogs in their twenties who just play it cool and wait for their turn in the harness. These ages are all in dog-years of course. So when I make my way to the outhouse for another completely unrelated chore it is with a certain five-year-old humor I have to chuckle, as it carries the title Poopsickle, and is perhaps the dirtiest of all jobs here. This inanimate object needs to be knocked down so as not to poke someone in the butt, a repercussion of residing in the cold with no running water. Happy Pfew Year everybody!

P.S. For 2008 I’d like to know whom other than my father is lending me their time here in cyberspace. Drop me a line if you have time; mail@kristinenyborg.com.