â€śThese are really called Dog Days?â€ť Fido said.
â€śThey are, but itâ€™s not what you think,â€ť I replied.
â€śIâ€™m a dog! I donâ€™t think. I guard, I feel, I bark, I sleep, I eat. But I do not think. I am a life-support system for biscuits and my water bowl. Everything after that is gravy.â€ť
â€śOnce again, you Big Red Lug, you are mixing your metaphors something awful, but thatâ€™s perfectly OK during the Dog Days of August.â€ť
â€śHey hey hey hey!â€ť Fido yelped. â€śWhat will we do to celebrate?â€ť