There isn't enough Prozac in the world to give me the same high I get from the annual Doggie Paddle. This is the fourth year in a row I've gone to the neighborhood pool for some dog-on-water action, and I still contend that life doesn't get any better. For two hours, all is right with the world.All of the usual suspects were there: the gung-ho water dogs, the scaredy cats, and the dozens of wet dogs, all seemingly named Buddy. And this year featured the dog in the red collar who almost knocked me into the pool not once, but twice. My favorite though had to be the little guy who starting the swimming motion ever time his owner picked him up.
I could go on and on about how much I love this event, but I'd rather let the pictures tell the story.
Someone is a little reluctant.
"Uh huh. So if one wanted to exit the pool, how exactly might they do that?"
Don't you know the cardinal rule of perms? You always have to wait two days before washing your hair.
"This swimming thing isn't so bad. Just don't let go of me."
"Um, excuse me. That dog took my Frisbee."
"But I 'm not ready to go yet!"
