Dog Eat Doug by Brian Anderson for July 12, 2018

Kids taught our lab to say “Hello.”

REROW…it really did sound like hello.

“Hello my baby, hello my darling… Is that enough, or do you want dinner theater with that?”

Tricks are another one of those dog things our St Bernard just doesn’t do

That’s OK, when she “speaks” it’s usually loud enough for the neighbors to hear

“In promulgating your esoteric cogitations, or articulating your superficial sentimentalities and amicable, philosophical or psychological observations, beware of platitudinous ponderosity. Let your conversational communications possess a clarified conciseness, a compact comprehensibleness, coalescent consistency, and a concatenated cogency. Eschew all conglomerations of flatulent garrulity, jejune babblement and asinine affectations. Let your extemporaneous descantings and unpremeditated expatiations have intelligibility and veracious vivacity, without rhodomontade or thrasonical bombast. Sedulously avoid all polysyllabic profundity, pompous prolixity, psittaceous vacuity, ventriloquial verbosity and vaniloquent vapidity. Shun double-entendres, purient pscosity, and pestiferous profanity, obscurant or apparent.”

Sorry for the reality, but that’s got to be confusing to dogs, as Sophie has noted.

Then don’t speak the next time.

We trained our first Sheltie (Bennie) to sneeze on command. He had also had learned ‘sit.’ The greatest party gag of all was when my husband (very drunk & showing off,) asked Bennie to “sit down and sneeze.” He did both.