On Joel and Howie

When Howie was younger we took him on a float trip with friends, and it was kind of miserable, because there was some midnight puking in the tent and a long bus ride to the river, after which Howie raced off the bus and humped another dog as they ran down the shore (who knew dogs could run so fast and hump so hard at the same time), and then Howie wanted to jump out of the raft or canoe or whatever we were riding, so he was whimpering for like seven hours, and we had to restrain him, and, most notably, because we were in the sticks of Missouri, apparently no one had ever seen a golden doodle before, so about 300 inebriated people questioned us (some from hundreds of yards away), β€œWHAT KIND OF DOG IS SHE?!?!” (One would have thunk we were floating down the river with a fucking Siberian tiger.) Continue reading