Oh lions of Philadelphia, how you taunt me. But I am not moved by your majesty, I HAVE THINGS TO DO.
It's time to head to the park - for a little Dale R-and-R.
Ah, Washington Square Park. The one here in Philadelphia. A wonderful place where a boy can walk, run, and...
Oh crap. So I'm NOT supposed to be in the plant beds? So then tell me this: Why are the plant beds so irresistible? The varied levels of plant life, the leafs of many colors, the flower shrubs at just the right height for a boy to pee on them...
Time to investigate some of the local flora that I am actually allowed to investigate.
Like the big trees here - there is SOMETHING here in the tangled roots, I just have to get to it.
And what better way than by flexing my fine, terrier digging muscles. As always, dig first, then go in for a full face sniff.
Alas, all of that digging for nothing (other than the fine pleasure of digging - which is absolutely NOT nothing). There must be something else in this park today, something like...
STICKS!!! YES YES YES!!!
Sticks serve so many purposes, here I am using this fine one as a sort of primitive toothbrush. You know, to brush my teeth. If I actually did brush my teeth. Or if I even cared about such things.
Oh hell, I'm just chewing on a tasty stick, who am I kidding.