I had the best time this weekend.  Me and Bea, and mother, father and the whole gang went to a big outside party.  Sally's boy dog, Gomer came along too, and he had almost as many admirers as I did.  Almost.
The sun was shining, there was enough wind to keep us cool, and all the ice we could eat.

Sweet Sally, Dancing Debbie and Vonnie were talking to all the visitors and telling them about our clinic.  So much for keeping it my little secret!

Bea hid in the travel den most of the time.  I, on the other paw, consider it my contribution to welcome all visitors with some kisses and a tail wag.  I was doing well and truly enjoying the spotlight until I saw the biggest dog I had ever seen.  He was bigger than the Newfoundlands or Great Danes that come to the clinic; this was due in part to the way he was walking -- on two legs like the people!  Of course, I was not going to let something like fear get in the way of me introducing myself to anyone.  Mother led me right over to him, but instead of the usual sniff-sniff-lick-lick greeting that is customary for our kind, he picked me right up.  Mother got out the one-eyed-flashing maching, and after a few clicks I was back on the ground and the giant dog was walking away; I didn't get so much as a tail wag.  I realized as he was walking away that he wasn't even leading a person on a leash.  Bea said that some of the really big dogs don't even know that they're dogs, they think that they're people.  Poor guy, I thought, he doesn't know what he's missing!