AND THE GREAT WEATHERPERSON spake unto the People, saying, “Place thy Shovels where thou canst Find them in the Dark, for I shall send a Snowpocalypse to thee, yea, even unto the Upper Reaches of the Chihuahuan Desert, wherein roam the Purse Dogs from which it takes its Name.”
“And they shall be Sore Vexed, for their Darling Little Aztec-Themed Sweaters and Tiny Suede Booties shall not Warm them and keep their Feet Dry in this, the Hour of their Need. And they shall Tremble and Yap and Bite the Hand that Feeds them, which is to Say it shall be the Same Ol’, Same Ol’, only Colder and Wetter.”
But the promised Snowpocalypse failed to Eventuate, and the People grew Restless, having Armed themselves with Shovels, Snow Blowers, and Strong Drink, and endured many painful Bites from their Chihuahuas as they stuffed them into the Cutest Miniature North Face Gore-Tex Insulated Jackets with wool Paddygucci Beanies and Itty Bitty Sorels.
“What gives?” they enquired. “Where it at the Snowpocalypse?”
And lo, the Great Weatherperson answered in a Voice like Thunder, proclaiming: “Ho, ho, got you again, didn’t I? Check the Calendar, dummies. April Fool! You might get a little Rain if you’re Lucky. Gotta run; these Chihuahuas don’t make Themselves, y’know.”
Mad Blog Media 
And, it is also Duffy’s birthday today, more or less. We adopted him in April, he was about a year old then, and it’s 13 years later. What birth date can we remember? April 1st of course, same as Sandy’s dad. So, happy b’day Duffy, and he thinks a little chihuahua mix dog would look right at home making a dump in the middle of your grass.
Happy b-day to the Duffster. Miss Mia Sopaipilla turns 17 in August, as I recall. She naps a bit more these days, and her vertical leap has dwindled a bit, but now and then she is seized by the Spirit and rockets around El Rancho Pendejo as in Days of Yore.
We saw a guy walking a Boston terrier during yesterday’s trail run, and Herself was all like “Awwwwww. …” Miss Mia and I must remain on the alert.
Us folks who are a little “long in the tooth” should get a tortoise not a dog, heh? That’s according to Mr. Carlin.
O, indeed. Easier to walk for us old fellers, too. Meanwhile, Mr. Carlin’s estate has reached a settlement with a couple of pirates who purportedly used artificial intelligence to create a fake Carlin comedy special. Good argument for sticking to natural intelligence, methinks.