Tennessee Stud

Some of you can be forgiven for thinking this title refers to a horse in a Johnny Cash song. Sure, the Man in Black had some fame with that version. But the real Tennessee Stud is me, Dr. Picasso. I stepped out in Chattanooga and Gatlinburg (walking my human. Lord does she need the exercise), and made all the ladies swoon. I, naturally, ignored them. Instead of pandering, I leisurely explored the carpet of fallen leaves. Their scent was refreshing after my confinement in the RV. I approached the tall trees, and truly thought about giving it a go. I was quite the tree climber in my day. Instead, I sat at the base and menaced the squirrels, who quite rightly feared my presence and never came all the way down the trees. I was feeling so good I ordered my dinner al fresco, and had a nice chicken, rice and vegetable mix on the patio. I followed up with some water leaking from the neighbor’s faucet because it came straight from the source, and not in a bowl. Tennessee, I shall remember you fondly.