Ice Cream

One of the many skills I have been developing on the campaign trail is what politicians like to call hyperbole. While in Kansas City, I practiced my new skill on my campaign manager. Missouri is hot and makes me pant. Honestly, though, the heat isn't a big deal. I can take it. But I've found that the harder I pant, the slower we walk and more sniff breaks I get to take.

I had heard rumors of a dog-friendly ice cream shop in the Westport area of Kansas City called Murray's. On one long publicity walk in that area, I made a particularly big deal about how hot it was outside. Pant, pant, pant! Occasionally I would look longingly at a patch of shade and sigh. The ploy worked, and I convinced my campaign manager to make a stop at Murray's to buy me a cup of doggie ice cream.

There is nothing like the sweet reward of peanut-flavored frozen soy after a challenging display of histrionics and hyperbole.