You said we wuz visiting friends!

A "nice ride" turned into another trip to the vet yesterday morning. This old dog is starting to have reservations about getting into cars with humans, especially when they tell you that you're going to visit friends. This time I got jabbed in the back of the neck with a needle that I'm just as glad I didn't see--though I should have suspected the worst when they strapped a big leather muzzle on me and started running on about what a good dog I am. That needle must have been a real doozy, too, cuz M said it contained a microchip  that's now lodged somewhere between my shoulder blades. (Don't be fooled by the "micro" part--it felt as big as a cow chip! Ouch!!)

On the way home I asked M what a microchip is, and he said it's an electronic gizmo that contains information to help people find me if I ever get lost. I said heck, I could have just promised not to get lost and saved him the expense. All he had to do was ask me not to--get lost, that is. But he said getting lost or not getting lost doesn't work that way, since the former is always done by accident.

Later we actually did get to visit some friends, a hound named Daisy and her person, a nice lady named Libby. But we didn't have to drive there, since they live a couple of houses down the street. Daisy's pretty cute and I like her even though she's at least twice my age. Libby says that makes her a cougar, but she still looks like a regular hound to me. I was glad to get to go over to her house. I'm afraid I wasn't at my socializing best, though, because of the lingering stress from being stabbed a few hours before.

We went through Daisy's house and out into the back yard and weren't there five minutes when M and J started grousing at me for whizzing on a coupla dozen bushes and a potted magnolia tree and then taking a big dump out by the fence. Libby said it was okay to leave it there. But noooo--M had to go bag it up and then stand around holding it for the entire rest of the party, complaining the whole time about the smell. (What'd he expect--Chanel Number 2?)

They tried to get me and Daisy to chase some weird looking toy, but we didn't feel much like it, as it was about 98 degrees in the shade. So most of the festivities just involved standing around the water bowl watching M and J and L sweat and listening to them make small talk. At some point Daisy found a patch of bare dirt and started scratching around in it. Then she left it, so I went over and dug it out a little more and then lay down in it. It felt good--nice and cool.

As you might imagine, the paparazzi were out in full force. Okay, that's hyperbole. M took his camera and snapped a few pictures. Here's one of me and ol' Daisy having some water:

Laissez les bons temps rouller!