Bringing home the bacon

It was an eventful and exhausting weekend at the ayatollah compound. Bruce, my large-pawed Lab cousin, stayed with me while his parents were out of town. Bruce and I have many qualities in common, chief among them our love of treats. But we also have our differences. For example, my affinity for water extends only to that which is in my bowl. Bruce, on the other paw, seeks out liquid at any and all opportunities. On a walk Saturday morning, he splashed in every puddle he saw and showed an uncanny ability to drink while moving at full speed. His tongue skimmed the surface of each pool of rainwater. Then, on a later walk, Bruce actually leaped headlong into the neighborhood creek. Needless to say, I moved away from the water's edge as quickly as possible. Like the nervous ducks, I wanted nothing to do with young Bruce's splashing.

Once Bruce dried off, we got to work on some pressing security matters. My canine Muslim faith had prevented me from properly interrogating one of the ringleaders of this year's chew-toy insurrection. Bruce, however, had no such qualms about "questioning" Squeaky Pig. Thank Allah for extraordinary rendition.