Essay on My Pet Dog
that I have, on more than one occasion, had to pull him out of the crepe myrtle tree in the back yard after he made a nearly four foot vertical leap onto the bottom branches, just so he could bark at squirrels at a little closer range.
I have told how this canine comedian, this fool of a Fido, this barking buffoon, looks, feels, and sounds like. I will now recount that he, no matter what, smells and will always smell, like a dog. No amount of bathing or cologne can stop it, that bouquet of fur, dirt