Dog Specific

I spent the night at Lon’s house last night. I don’t know Lon. I’ve never met him, but I must say he has a nice house. Lon asked my lady friend to take care of his wiener dogs while he visited his dying father in Seattle. The wiener dogs were lovable but kind of on the spooky side. First of all, they’re pretty small, almost delicate. Their heads are tiny, and they have a hard time backing up.

Part of the deal was that my lady friend had to spend the night with the dogs. She was doing Lon a favor and asked me if I’d come along with her. I didn’t mind but the dogs seemed to be staring at me constantly. It makes me insecure when dogs or cats stare at me. I can’t tell if they’re judging my spirit, as if they have a greater understanding of universal properties, or if they’re just needy. It’s almost too much when they just sit there and stare at you.

We took the dogs for a walk last night. I wasn’t into it all that much. I had fun but there was something about it that made me feel ordinary. I was holding one of those push button leashes that’s designed in an inferior manner. You have to push down and hold the button to lock the dog in. It should be the other way around. You should have to push down on the button to let the dog out.

            I like dogs. I like big dogs with a nice coat. I want a dog I can let run wild, a dog I can use as pillow, a fluffy dog. I guess you might say, I’m dog specific.