Where the fuck was this Albert Gore in 2000? In his endorsement announcement, he spoke with vigor, nearly passionately. His hair was disheveled. This Gore could have won more decisively than 2000's Gore.
There is a basset hound mix in Greeley whose human just died. She's mixed with Australian shepherd, which is not such a good dog option. There's a basset hound, full blood and older so maybe safer, 280 miles away in Wyoming.
But today Blake had a yawnfest. Dogs yawn. I've seen it. However, no dog yawning has ever been as cute as Blake yawning. Dogs don't tuck under your chin. Dogs don't sing in their boxes. Dogs don't bow while you brush your teeth.
Dogs go for walks. Dogs are big enough to hug. Dogs--particurly Labrador retrievers and basset hounds--have floppy ears instead of icky reptilian holes in their heads (though charmingly covered by orange feathers). Dogs have oversized paws instead of ugly scaly feet, and when you trim their toenails, they don't shriek and kick to the point you fear they'll dislocate their hips. Dogs snore. Dogs aren't afraid of pigeons.
Are dogs as fascinating to watch? Do dogs make rattling-of-sabers sounds as they preen and rearrange their tail feathers? No? Damn.
I never thought I'd be 35 and dogless. Sigh.