Me? A Model? (part 24)

Bonjour, mes amis!

(I hope you’ve been studying up on your romance languages. We’re straight up cultured around these parts.)

Welcome to this week’s edition of Me? A Model? starring your best-looking friend, Brody the hound!

brody-001Scratching your noggin and wondering what in tarnation is happening here? Strut on over to the Me? A Model? page to find out more.

Let’s get down to business!

bcarThe time: A few months back
The place: The car
I’m feeling: Windblown. Glorious. Flippin’ majestic.

Sometimes when you’ve had 2 straight weeks of rain like we have, and when you hate the rain with the heat of a thousand suns and are horrified that your friends keep making you walk around in it every day even though they know you hate it, it’s nice to look back and remember the good ol’ days.

You know, the days when you didn’t fear for your life (or the shine of your coat) when you walk outside in a monsoon. When you could run around and chase tennis balls in the yard without drowning. And best of all: when you could cruise around town and let your jowls flap in the breeze and feel like you’re flying through the air with the greatest of ease. I know that it’s kind of a dog stereotype, like chasing cats or tinkling on fire hydrants, and usually I’m far too sophisticated for that kind of thing, but I’m man enough to admit that sticking my face out the window and letting the cool breeze blow my ears back rocks my socks.

I can feel you judging me, and I don’t blame you. Sticking your face out the window? So bourgeois. But don’t knock it till you try it. Next time your boss gives you a hard time, or you get stuck in traffic on your way home, or your “friend” throws away your favorite tennis ball even though you’re this close to ripping off all of the green fuzz with your teeth, take a page out of my playbook and roll that window down and watch all of your troubles float away in the breeze.

Figuratively speaking, of course. Keep your eyes on the road, you animal.

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