I love dogs, particularly Irish Wolfhounds. I had a great one, topped 200 lbs and over seven feet tall standing on his hind legs. I live in Southern California, and I recall the first time it rained during Seamus's lifetime - I looked out the window, and there he was staring up at the sky (not with his mouth open, thank goodness) with this quizzacle look on his face. Obviously smarter than juggalo.
For you old-timers, that's not the best story I have regarding Seamus as you may recall. I define this as the "I have the best wife in the world" story. A few years after the above incident, I was living in Carmel, California, running a small restaurant with a wine store attached (I'm a sommelier, if my handle didn't convey that). My usual day was I'd go in early and open the shop; come home for lunch; and head back mid-afternoon for dinner service. One day I come home for lunch, and Seamus is sitting on the couch raptly watching the TV. As I enter the living room, I see that a lesbian porn tape is playing; I hear my wife back in the office, and head that way. Me: "Darling, why is there lesbian porn on the TV?" Wife: "Seamus seems to like it."