Dog gone lost the plot

Posted: November 17, 2010 in don't fight it
Tags: , , , , ,

Dog gone lost the plot

Have to apologize about the frequency of blogs recently; miles of walking and drooling over architecture, art and the glory that is Barcelona.  Yes, still in Barcelona and though it has been an amazing week it seems I have at last managed to find a complaint… there’s always one!

But it is not easily corrected as it appears to be a psychological aberration (not sure on whose part).  My family is perhaps weak at the back, not just between the ears, as we prefer to NOT bend down just to toy with man’s best friend.  I don’t want my best friend wrapping itself around rose bushes or being julienned into slices in a tricycle wheel.  My friend needs to leave his mark, make a statement, not a pathetic dime sized raindrop or almond sized turd.  If someone steps in his statement they will know it immediately because it will flow around and even over the top of their shoes (too graphic sorry).  I don’t want the statement to be something you discover accidentally in a taxi cab with a your boss, something that sneaks up to embarrass you.  No, be out there let that statement smoke.  (Clean it up of course.)

You see my version of man’s best friend is at least mid thigh high so they’re easy stroke.  Ears should be scratch-able at belt height.  The statement can usually weigh in between 1.5 -2 kilos… shovel not pansy-assed scooper!

Their intelligence… well ok… we’ll move on there.

But what is happening in Barcelona…  the city of architectural wonder, leather shoes, late night tapas, beaches and jewelry galore?


I mean what kind of a name is that?  It sounds like a drunk asking for another tequila or directions to the toilet.  Now Great Dane – that is a name!

Chihuahuas seem to be everywhere in Barca.  Poppey-eyed, twitchy eared, wanna-be dogs/cats/rats.  They are carried in purses and bicycles.  They have coats and fashion accessories.  It is a Dog. (I think).

Women carry them and cuddle them as if they were a new found wonder, men have them as if they are an accessory to catching women – didn’t it used to be pecs, biceps, a flash car and hair like Andre Agassi (before it left).  What are they doing walking with a wind up toy?  Get a dog.

I am sure they are very loving and fill the canine void in some dog lover’s lives but, but, there are so many!

So there rests my only (thus far) criticism of this fine city.

Apart from that it is doggone wonderful.



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