I have a confeshion to make: I’m a rowdy, naughty, rude dog. I will sometines chew your bootox. And all at the sane tine, I’m a good dog, too. I yam many tings, and all while bing a furry, furry canine doggo.
Yesh, I am easily provoked and easily teased into flying arf my dog rug and RIPPIN’ around the house at 85 mph, creating havoc and knocking things down and just generally bing All. Wound. Up. I hab mai moments!
I sometines bark my head arf for no apparent reason, in the middle of the night. No reason! I donut hab a REASON! It’s a blood pressure thing, mebbee.
I also growl at people I love sometimes, it just comes out dat way. I jump, and fink later.
I have bitten the ham dat feeds me; butt if I doo, after I calm down, I have to give licks because I didn’t really mean it.
I react to sounds and smeds before I can actually smed why.
And when I doooooo calm down, I am a very good dog. I donut rip the legs arf people dat smed right, I donut bite anyone who is simply trying to put a leash on me, or a bandanna. At least, not on porpoise.
Yesh, I admit I can bee QUITE reactionary. Also revolutionary. And percussionary. And fashionary. And pissy, sometines. Peeble have assed me, what kinda dog ARE you? I yam the kinda dog that wags mai tail and knocks everyfing arf the coffee table. I yam the kinda dog that jumps into bed wiff you when I yam scared, even if you hate dat. I yam the kinda dog dat tucks tail and runs arf if you yell at me, then sneaks into your room and leaves protest in your shoes. OR, I just forget all about it and come in waggie tail and smilin’.
I donut mean to hurt anybuddy. But if you smed like goat assho, and stick your hand in mai face, I mite bite. Just sayin’ (woof!).
I try to luv all peebles and other critteren, but sometines I fail. After all, I’m just a pooge. Now, get outta town. And take dat kitteh wiff you! JA JA JA JA JARF!!!
You force me to smile when my smile tank is empty.
You remind me of Ben, a rescued dog I acquired because his owner left him with me and fukt arf. That dog was fearless, but also totally adorable. He would belt down the garden barking at thunder and lightening, daring it to come round here upsetting his pals. He would let Rasta, my big black, wolf-like total softie Belgian Shepherd, greet anybody, but Ben would watch closely from half a pace back from Rasta's shoulder. People would be terrorised by Rasta and hardly notice Ben.... but Ben was the one who would bite them without a second thought if they put a foot wrong. He was the one I would grab if things turned sticky!
Wherever we went Rasta was the vanguard, proudly strutting in front, but Ben was always at the rear, keeping an eye on everyone's back, ready to run forward baring his huge teeth.
Ben is the only dog who ever bit me. A young woman was giving me verbal grief, shouting and screaming at me. Ben decided that he would bite her leg and I quickly got my leg in front of her in time to take the bite. Ben was appalled! He licked my leg and grumbled with his ears laid flat back on his head. He thought I was stupid. He could not know that, had he succeeded in biting that girl, he risked being put down and there would have been nothing I could have done to prevent it.
Ben was a cross-bred bully breed of some sort. Huge wide strong jaws but blessed with a deep chested sleek fast moving body shape. He loved to swim more than anything. He was Rasta's wing man, playmate and fight trainer. Ben was loved, even by the cat and the chickens but, most especially, by me.