Santa is coming. I hope he brings me a new car for Christmas. The check engine light has been on in my car for a few years. It is German-made, too complicated to fix, or maybe I’m projecting. My dog, Louie the fourteenth, is my main passenger, which is why my swanky dash is covered with dog hair. We travel country roads every day and when he sees a cow, he barks and licks his lips. When we get to the park he jumps from back seat to front seat eager to get out and walk and have a dooky. If someone is watching I just keep pulling him forward while he is going because I’m not picking it up. What’s one dog turd going to hurt when there is duck poop everywhere? The sun is out, the sky is blue, we are on our walk, it’s a good day.