And they called it . . .

My dog Billy Bob is the friendliest dog in the world. (Exceptions: mailmen, pizza guys, cable guys, meter readers, the weirdos across the street, tenants, small children, anyone he doesn't know).

Look, here he is:


Howdy! Do I know you?

Billy Bob is extraordinary in that he's friendly not just with (some) people, but with all living things. Here he is in a candid picture, eager to play with one of his little pals:


Lemmeout lemmeout lemmeout.

Billy Bob even enjoys hanging out with his "feathered friends" at Sloan Lake:


Hey, guys! Come back and play!

But Billy Bob's best friend is not Chewy the squirrel, or some goose, or me, or my wife, or even bacon. Billy Bob's best friend is his frisbee. And he's smart enough to know that, given the nature of frisbees, he must be a Platonist in that friendship: Frisbeeness, he has learned, is more important than any particular frisbee.


Sad truth: All frisbees die.

Well, there's my first dog blog. You've met Billy Bob, now--stand still! Don't hold your hand out like that!