the dawg is back

My brother Sean is off to a couple music gigs in Prague for a week, and he's left his chihuahua Maqz with us. The dog is as bouncy as ever, leaping repeatedly against Mom's leg when she's prepping food (Maqz has no sense of boundaries, a state of affairs that Mom encourages). I once again find myself imagining Maqz in a variety of stews.

I missed this, but when Sean brought Maqz over yesterday morning, Maqz apparently charged out into our back yard, found a lump of dog poop (presumably his own, from a previous visit), and excitedly rubbed his face in it. Although I've long known that dogs practice coprophagia, I'd never heard of them giving themselves dung facials, and I began to wonder whether Maqz was representative of his kind, or whether his fellow canines would consider him a special case. Mom did her best to wipe the dog's muzzle clean when he proudly came back inside, but for me, the damage was done: I'll always think of Maqz as shit-faced.


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