I’m in Prospect Park, on a bench overlooking Long Meadow.
My neighbor Marie just passed by with her dog Pancake who was wearing a New York Yankees t-shirt which appeared to be five sizes too small for him. The shirt only covered the front half of his body. Had he stood on his hind legs, it would have resembled a halter top.
“What’s with the t-shirt, Marie?”
“He has a skin rash. It was that or the space collar.”
“It’s fetching,” I said. “Which is apt for a dog.”
The pun was lost on Marie, who explained that the t-shirt was meant for a cat.