“Oh, hey. Merry Christ–”
“You wanna talk to the dog?”
Could it be that much worse than talking to the rock star?
“Not a terrible point.”
Who’s a good dog?
“Oh, that would be me. Been killing it lately. Ate a squirrel, pooped on the bed. Just really seeing the ball right now; I’m in the zone.”
Good to hear. How’s your holiday season going?
“I ate a squirrel and pooped on the bed: those were the highlights. I completely don’t understand any of this nonsense: these are familiar smells and the lights ring a bell, but my relationship with reality is of an episodic nature and I am just stymied by all of this.”
Yeah, there are around two dozen layers of abstraction in the concept of Christmas.
“Right. I’m a tactile learner.”
“I enjoy chewing on stuff and/or humping things.”
Right. You get any presents?
Bobby gave you a shoe for Christmas?
“Let’s just say ownership of a shoe was transferred from Bobby to myself today and leave it at that.”
What else you been doing?
“Walks: always awesome. The park. Go into town. Ride in the car.”
“This morning? Or maybe last year? Or possibly this morning?”
That time thing really is your Waterloo.
“It’s why so few dogs are NFL head coaches.”
“Managing the clock.”
–the clock, right.
“Anyway: this memory smells recent, so I think it was this morning. Me and Bobby go out real early and the smells are all different from they are when we usually go out, so I was having a blast. Then, all the church bells started ringing.”
That must have been beautiful.
“Are you shitting me? It was fucking terrifying. You know how much more powerful my hearing is than yours? Church bells sound like the gates of hell opening up.”
“No big deal. Big guy was right there. Nothing that bad could happen with the big guy there.”
Speaking of the big guy, what’s with the white tube socks and penny loafers?
“Saw Dennis Miller do it and liked the look.”
Ah.Anyway, nice talking to you, Otis.
“Back at ya.”
You might be my favorite Grateful Dead.
“I’m a very good boy.”