There are two words that really sum up
our May: lockdown fur. You know what
we’re talking about, right? At first
you shrug it off. It’s a new look, you
think. It’s cool to let your fur down
once in a while. But weeks pass. By
the middle of May you no longer
resemble a wirehaired dachshund. Your
fur has gone wild. You brush it one
way, then another. You rummage through
your accessories. A bandana will help,
you think. And then you have to accept
that you look like a small feral being
of indeterminate origin. And it’s
okay, because everyone else you know
looks the same. Including your humans.