Woof, folks! Arthur the Komondor here, straight from the farm where my dreads collect more hay than a haystack. Easter rolled in quick like a pastel tornado this year, and I am one confused fluffball. Humans dye eggs? They dunk plain white orbs from my chickens into vats of neon goo—pink, blue, green slop everywhere! I sniff the vinegar stink, sneeze rainbow flecks into my cords. Messy madness!