I just talked to my husband who spotted a dog he described as older than God, dressed in little dog booties so his feet would be protected from the ground. The other thing he noticed was that when dogs get old, their–and pardon me, the tender among my readers (readers totaling 7 now, yeah, dawg)–nut sacks get old too and saggy.
“Like they drag on the ground?” I ask.
“Kind of.”
And then it hit me — the Dog-Nut-Sack-Bra. We could make millions, quit our jobs, and pursue our dreams of painting flowers on lamp posts on the streets of New York. Mu-ha-ha.