August 02, 2005
In Praise of Newspapers
I discovered a terrible thing this morning: some dogs don't get a paper! All this time, I thought it was the right of every dog and now I find out even my buddy Sandy doesn't get a paper. This worries me, and Labradors are not easily worried. My human Mike has many, many worries. It's like his brain has a bad case of fleas. But now one of his worry fleas - the worry that fewer people are getting papers - has jumped from his brain to my brain. (This happens with dogs and humans; people should be more considerate about it.) Mike says people will someday only get their news off the Internet, leaving their dogs paperless and crestfallen.
The paper, you see, is so beautiful. It comes wrapped in plastic like porkchops. Except the plastic is covered in dew and sticks and grass. It's peoply and yardy as the same time. It's mostly white like a bone but soft and slippery on the teeth. It reminds me of something that's alive but trying to pretend it's not. It's just the right the thing in the morning when you're stumbly and trying to wake up. I doubt computers would like fetching the paper so much. And I doubt they'd bring in the sticks and bugs and dew, which the house and even the humans need in the morning.
The paper, you see, is so beautiful. It comes wrapped in plastic like porkchops. Except the plastic is covered in dew and sticks and grass. It's peoply and yardy as the same time. It's mostly white like a bone but soft and slippery on the teeth. It reminds me of something that's alive but trying to pretend it's not. It's just the right the thing in the morning when you're stumbly and trying to wake up. I doubt computers would like fetching the paper so much. And I doubt they'd bring in the sticks and bugs and dew, which the house and even the humans need in the morning.
