Dabblings on dogs, and as time goes by

Sometimes when you want to sit on a bench and just stare at boats floating by, something weird happens.

Strangers on the next bench have a furry little dog that prances over, sits by your feet and gives you a look that simply begs for a pat, or forty, on the head. You pet it, and pet it and it just does not want to leave.

Don't you hate it when cute little dogs do that?

I know.

Me either.

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Speaking of dogs, sometimes on Facebook I see this dog named Jackman. His human is named, Mick, and they reside in Australia. 

Jackman, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, is shown doing super cute stuff like standing there staring at the camera. With every post from Jackman and Mick, I have to ask my mate what time it is Australia. Oddly, it is always the same answer. If it is Friday around 6 pm in these parts, it is already Saturday morning down-under. You would think I would stop asking about this random thing, but I probably will not.

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Speaking of time zones, here we go with the dreaded time change. Every year I complain about losing that hour, and how they should just pick a time and leave it.

So, this year I made a vow not to bitch about something so utterly stupid. Still, how is my mutt going to know when to start begging for her meals? How will I? --The Dabbler