The dog is such a princess.
An eighty-five pound, 38 inches tall, deer-legged, red, short-haired, long-eared princess.
The past few days have been exhausting in the “doing his business” category. He needs to find just the right spot.
The ground’s been covered in snow, outside of a path in the center of the sidewalk and the plowed strip in the street. Somehow he knows that under those twenty-three inches of snow is sidewalk and not grass. He is obviously very picky about going only on organic matter. He’s like the princess, and the pee.
Sorry, dad joke.