Happy Birthday, Will Shakespeare

Of course, we all know that it’s Shakespeare’s birthday. No, not that cat who used to sleep in the bookstore window; the real guy. So, we stopped along the path at the edge of the baseball field to consider things like the passage of time and how Shakespeare is more important than, say, a rock star, even though lots of people would have trouble believing that. I don’t, though.

Oh, and I’ve decided to forgive Shakespeare for never having written a play about dogs. He probably figured no one would come to see it. I guess he never heard of Lassie or Rin Tin Tin or Old Yeller (wow, that was so sad at the end).

Now, to Shane: Yikes! People think he wears a muzzle. But it’s not a muzzle; it’s a Halty. When we go to the lake, he really needs to wear a Halty plus an extra leash because he can get very agitated at, well, nothing in particular—a squirrel, another dog, the rustling of dry leaves.

The Halty is like braces for the whole face; that is, it’s supposed to be a training device, but Shane’s training has gone on for eight years or so. In other words, Shane is always and will always be in training mode. So be it. Joan keeps saying, “An ounce of prevention is worth …” and then she forgets the rest.” Did Shakespeare say that one, too? Nah; it sounds too Ben Franklinish.

Best wishes, Juno