Dog Eat Dog. Not.

Actually, they did not serve me a nice hot dog yesterday, not even a scrap of chorizo, at my very first barbecue and social outing of the Summer, where I must say I had pretty much everybody in thrall. For my charming entertaining efforts I was given puny treats, because one of my minders neglected to bring my dinner (sheesh!) and finally I got some fabulous grilled chicken made by a hero who stood behind the smoke and burning coals the entire evening.
Today, even though Enchilada is bent on making me poo, I am not just going to do it any time SHE wants. Since they put me on that malignant leash, I find pooing rather intimidating. Whereas au naturel suited me much better. Oh, well. Let the chips fall where they may.
As I was saying, the BBQ was oodles of fun, especially getting to meet the fabulous Hunter, a one year old mighty human who became my best pal. Enchilada kept comparing us to his poor mother. It is true we are both fearless and adorable. People were watching us play and someone was screaming for someone to shoot us for our 15 minutes of viral fame on You Tube, but everybody was too hypnotized to do anything about it. One thing I will say about Enchilada, she is not a stage mother. She actually barely suffers (rather gamely, I must admit) all the oohing and aahing I elllicit from every single bystander.  I suspect that all she wants is some of all that attention for herself. I pity her. She is used to be the center of attention, but not any more. I can't imagine what that feels like.
I have to ask my dear uncle Alex, the most gracious host, on the most fabulous rooftop in Brooklyn (I like Brooklyn!) on the most amazing Summer day so far, to send me the pictures of me with my adoring fans so you guys can see them.