As funny as it is to laugh about Trump Tower catching fire or how he is, like, a stable genius, I still hate to end the day thinking about Our Moron President.

It was brutally cold out this weekend and the only one who was happy was Marzipan, who took a nap in 2° weather on the snow. Of course, this was only after spending an hour running around the yard.

My wife is concerned about her possibly having hip dysplasia but after watching infinite videos of sheepdogs running, I’ve concluded that that is just how they run. I’m still on the lookout for hip dysplasia, especially as she is now nearly 24" at the withers and isn’t even eight months old. But her galloping stride seems naturally, fluid, and without pain. It’s just that she can’t even hope to keep up with Henri.

I dread the spring, when I’ll have to shave off her coat.

Then again, in this weather, it’s hard NOT to keep up with a chihuahua terrier who only moves to go from the fleece on the couch to the toe-kick heater to his own crate and then back to the couch.

Yes. She is panting. While laying in the snow. In single-digit weather. Because she’s a friggin’ bear of a dog.