I Wish My Dog Knew

That–

• Just because I do a bong-hit and grab my can of Swedish nicotine candy (“Snus”) does not mean I’m taking you for a walk.

It just means the odds have gone way up.

• It’s Society that makes me leave you in the morning to go to work. Society, dammit.

(Tears)

• You should poop on undeveloped and abandoned lots, or at least ones without cars in the driveway, or ones with cars that have “Co-exist” bumper stickers.

And if I do remember to bring a poop bag don’t you dare double-shit me!

• Other dogs have a right to exist.

I’m afraid he’s never going to learn this–too many vague abstract concepts involved.

• Only chase cats that run from you.

He already knows this, actually. He just goes through the motions of aggression towards cats who don’t run. His real hatred is for his own kind.

• People get maudlin when they’re drunk.

So just put up with it.

• If you want to scratch in the middle of the night, get the hell off the bed.

Then come right back, I need you.

• If you have to bark in the middle of the night don’t go from zero to ninety decibels instantaneously.

Crescendo, please. Let me know it’s coming.

• Fireworks are meaningless.

Save your concern for gunfire. Try to learn the difference because I’m not good at it and I kinda wanna know.

• Not while I’m driving!

You can jump on me when we pull in our driveway; but not every stop is our driveway dammit!

• Every expedition must begin with a “Shit, I forgot my [fill in the blank]!” followed by a quick turnaround and a backtrack indoors. So just expect it.

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The Gospel of Your Pet

I think my cat is gorging and vomiting up food for the neighbors and the strays so as to “win friends and influence [peers].”

Nobody can eat FIVE cans of Fancy Feast ® a day, plus some assorted low-grade cat food for good measure. That’s $100 a month or more!

And what am I getting for it?  Cuteness?!

I stopped leaving food outside for him at night a long time ago, although I can tell that he wants me to keep doing that.  But why should I feed the ‘possums and the strays or even his own ill-conceived so-called “families”?

So what if he might have sired kittens with some “lynxy-looking” pussy?  ‘Not my problem! Those ill-conceived kittens are on their own, Buddy boy! I can barely afford you!

Even if he doesn’t have any offspring that he’s secretly trying to feed, he shouldn’t be distributing my largess to Un-Worthies—i.e., cats I don’t want to adopt, which is all of them except him. The problem really is a distributional one—the stupid cat doesn’t know how to share!

Perhaps it was the booze, but tonight I let him have a bowl of wet food outside and said: “Ok Buddy, tonight you’re the ‘rich guy’—tonight you’re the one who hosts the party and shows off and everyone ‘loves’. Enjoy it.”

Because you know damn well I ain’t doin’ this every night! Forget that!

And then I suddenly realized that this is exactly how God could feel about me or any of us if he wanted to be a hard-ass about it.

And maybe that’s why He is such a hard-ass sometimes.

Oops–I mean, “amen”–those are sort of opposites, and yet synonymous too in a strange way.