Day at the Cotton Bowl

I recently attended a historic gathering, my flock. What began with a blog post almost one year ago today culminated in the largest Water-Bowl Party yet at the Cotton Bowl last weekend. Dogs from across the country converged on the Dallas stadium to protest anything and everything. And to do a good bit of sniffing and biscuit-eating in the House that Doak Walker built. 

Among the topics we protested:

• High taxes and taxation without canine representation.
• Excessive government spending and regulation.
• Insufficient government social programs and the feds' inability to reign in the Wall Street "fat cats."
• People who insist on crossing the road in a slow, catty-corner manner, rather than walking straight across. 

You may think it sounds a little bit like one of those human Tea Parties, and you'd be right. Except that we canines have far better spelling and grammar on our protest signs, and the average cuteness quotient of our protesters is significantly higher. 

We also had different rules at our canine gathering. For example, a strict child leash law was in effect to minimize tail-pulling. The lad below broke free from his parents and ran around with his leash dragging on the ground for a few anxious moments before he was subdued by the Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF). Our investment in nonlethal Taser guns has already begun to pay dividends. 

Several wading pools were set up on the field of play to help the canines stay cool. And at one point, the sprinkler system turned on without warning. This sent me high-tailing it in the opposite direction. Allah intended water to be in my bowl, not on my fur. 

One of my favorite things about such large-scale gatherings is that they give me an opportunity to mingle with my flock -- to sniff the commoners, so to bark. I met one particularly fetching pug named Delilah, who works part-time at the fine Woof store in Plano alongside her brother Wilbur. I sniffed her with great vigor -- you should've seen my tail wagging. I stuck by Delilah's side for much of the afternoon. Though I enjoyed meeting all of the fine canines in my flock, she was my favorite harem prospect. Note her ubersexy tongue.

Unfortunately, my brother Wendell has a tendency to try to insinuate himself into the middle of my dates at the most inopportune times. 

He can be such a flock-block.