Monday, March 05, 2007
When Arthur was a puppy, cats were the bane of his existence. There are quite a few in the neighborhood, and if he saw one (or two or three) on his walk, he would go crazy with the barking. Always with the barking. Oh, and he would also yank your arm out of the socket trying to get at them.
Now, in his wise old age, he could not care less about cats. Couldn't be bothered. He might pause, as if to say, I could bark at you, but why? A short stare down works just as well. And then he's off.
King of the Urban Jungle.