Playing dress up

Ok, I'll be honest. I don't like playing dress up. Ever. Never have liked it, never will. No pair of sunglasses, no shirt, and certainly no hat has ever worked out. Oh sure, I'll humor my humans, at least for a little while, but once the camera's been put away, it's time to de-clothe.


Here's proof: This was, obviously, Cinco de Mayo. Several years ago now, when I was younger and more easily convinced to go along with such antics. However, I would guess that you can tell by my expression that I was not a willing partner. As you can tell by the extremely gleeful expression on the face of the co-conspirator to my left, some were more willing than others. Peer pressure at its worst, really. Thankfully, this hat did not survive the eastward trek some months later. No tears were wept for it; there were no lamentations on my part. Others, well....I'm not so sure.

The only borderline, barely acceptable clothing item that I have decided to allow are booties. Cold weather booties, for my feet, and only my feet. They do not go on my nose, they are not for my tail; they are for my paws. And only when the temperature is in the single digits, or lower. If it's 20F outside, leave me alone, I'll survive. Dog save you if it's 30F out and you come near me with those things, I will have words with you. And please, do not to laugh at me when I try to walk in them. For all you know, I'm working on my John Cleese Ministry of Silly Walks impersonation.

Oh, and to those little dogs who get all gusseyed up in sweaters and big poofy down jackets and the like, you know we're all laughing at you, right? If you don't say anything about it, you're considered a willing participant. If you don't want it, put up a fight. If it's to keep you warm, I suggest you be a really good boy (or girl, as the case may be) in this life, and maybe next time 'round you'll get to be something a little bit more respectable, like a Setter or something.

That's all for this time, kiddies. Time to go take a nap.