Mom and Dad and me live way out in the country (yeah, Loki is here, too). It's a great place to be a dog! I don't need to be on a leash and I can pee wherever I feel like. Well, not on Mom's car tires, but just about anywhere else. I know how lucky I am to have so much freedom. A lot of dogs can't run free.
Mom and Dad both walk with me a couple of times a day. Mom would like to go on one long walk, but she knows my leg can't take that much stress all at once. I have a torn cruciate, you know. It doesn't bother me unless I run too much or run too hard. Mom and Dad make me behave. Anyway, we go for several shorter walks a day and my leg is fine.
I remind Mom to stop and enjoy life. One of the things she really likes is the wild dogwood tree that grows on the bank. It is pretty right now, but I don't get it. DOGwood? I don't see any other dogs. Lots of white flowers, sure. But dogs? Nope.
I was curious so I asked Mom to look it up on that computer she has. Her computer knows all sorts of stuff. I know because she reads the articles to me. I do my best to look interested - and I am. All sorts of words I know are in those articles. They don't make a lot of sense, but I know it for sure when I hear "dog," "good," "food," and a bunch of other words.
So Mom looked it up and it turns out there doesn't seem to be a definitive reason the dogwood tree is called a dogwood tree. One possibility is that it may have been a Celtic word, "dag," or "dagga," and become "dog" over the years. That's like a lot of human stuff that just doesn't make sense to lil' ol' me.
That's okay. I'm Deuce and Mom says I'm a good dog just the way I am. Even if I don't have anything to do with a tree.
Except to pee on it.