Thursday, February 08, 2007

She of Heartbreak

I've renamed my boy dog with a girl's name; I call her Martha Stewart. I walk him in the park all the time and he's a fun, fun dog (he doesn't come when I call him, though, dumb dog--LOL!!!!). You'd like him, he looks like your mom.

People stop me and say, "oh, cute dog" and I say, "thanks, it's Martha Stewart" and we share a little laugh.

Then we make the requisite weather chit-chat and then they say, "so how old she?" and then I get a look of rage and say, "it's a he, not a she and I resent the implication that I have a gay dog."

Then I pause for three seconds and say, "just kidding." and I laugh so hard and wipe tears. "It's a boy dog. Didn't you see his massive cock? His prick is big for his breed. Which is why I adopted him."

Then we generally part ways at this point but sometimes I follow them around. Sometimes I don't. Depends on my mood, I guess.