It appears that we will be skipping the spring season here in Philadelphia – the sun has come roaring out and IT’S HOT

So what’s a fuzzy boy to do?  Shorten the walkie a bit, have mama carry a bottle of water for me, and do some fine relaxation exercises in the park.

I find that I can relax better, concentrate deeper, when I find pieces of random tennis balls.  Don’t you?

I’m willing to work a bit to find them – this one was actually buried – and mama was truly impressed with my mad anthropological-dig skills.

See?

Yeah, it’s hot outside.  Mama dressed wrong, and I still have too much fuzz for 80 degrees.  Oh but wait, I HAVE AN IDEA

The fountain in Washington Square Park is off-limits to swimming and dogs.  Except that it hasn’t actually begun working for the season yet.  And there just happens to be some water inside from the recent rains…

Yeah, I’m going for it.  You can’t stop me.  Even just a little refreshing water on my paws is helping.

And bonus – it’s full of sticks!  WINNING

Love,

Bogart

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One thought on “Spring… What Spring?”

  1. Oh Bogie, this is truly fountainbulous! Me hopes your mama joined you in your water frolicking …

    Luv,
    Bel

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