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JUST A FART LOVING DOG Fartdog sat on the park bench, tail wagging. With a toot and a lightning-quick hand movement, he caught the air. "Ah, vintage!" he declared, holding the invisible treasure to his nose. A nearby cat rolled its eyes. "Why, Fartdog, WHY?" "It's like fine wine," Fartdog explained, eyes dreamy. "Each one tells a story. Beans? Broccoli? A hint of hotdog. Pure joy!" The cat gagged, but Fartdog just smiled. The world didn’t get it, but that was okay. Art isn’t for everyone.