Young dog get outta my life……

 

I’ve been spending some time suntanning lately.  I should probably wear sunscreen so I don’t wrinkle in the next few years. But you know me… prefer to hope that my thin coat will protect me from those bad rays. I know Boris used to wear sunscreen on his snout but not yours truly.    Hilariously owner actually rubbed that sunscreen tube over her own lips one day forgetting that it existed solely for running over Boris’ runny nose. You should have heard her  yelp when she realised what she had done. Talk about ROFL and basically LMAO….(man, I am quite the up-to-date dog, eh?)

Anyway, above is a shot of me lying in the new miniscule area we call our garden.  If I’ve told her once I’ve told her 100 times…take off the damn collar.  I do not want tan lines around the neck. 

Friends dropped by the other evening.  Every topic under the sun was up for grabs.  No one sat on the fence.   Sometimes fence sitting is a good place to rest and owner should perch their more often.  At least Curly-haired says that she should.  

One topic came up that is near and dear to my heart.  Older lusting after younger.  Whether you are a human or a dog you get sick and tired of being older and having the “other sex” only look at the young ‘uns.  Our guest was lamenting that  while she’s in the market for a nice guy, all the men her age (40 ish would be a number) are only interested in the 25 year olds.  It just isn’t right. Dogs do it too.

When I add up the times I’ve been out and about and those old boys barely give me a sniff, well it breaks my heart.   No, they are gallivanting as close as possible to  some young perky behind.  I see them sucking in their paunches as they check the pretty things out  while sitting  back on their old arthritic haunches.  They look ridiculous and so damned obvious.  Some wear those big old “punk” collars so they will look extra studly.  For God’s sake what do these old boys think they are going to talk about with these young pups.  Let’s face it….way worse for us dogs.  In human years I’m SEVENTY…and I have to endure the indignity of watching my fellow “aged” pals chase bitches that are barely SEVEN years old in human terms.   Humans have laws against this and  it is  high time we dogs rise up and voice our disgust at the behaviour of some of our fellow canines.

For Pete’s sake I may be too old to have puppies but I’m good at snuggling and pillow talk.  Those old dudes could barely stand up on their hind legs if they tried and we all know that that’s what it takes in our world.  Stupid old boors….they wouldn’t know good pillow talk if they stumbled over it in the street.  I can hear it now…”oh Big Billy I went out with my owner today for a good ten mile run.  What did you do….. huh, huh?”  “Oh well sweet Jezebel….I managed to blindly find my way to the mailbox and leave a dribble”. Of course deliberately forgetting to add that that short trek took all the energy he had  so went straight back to a sunny spot to lie down. He needed  to gather his strength to eat dinner with his snaggle teeth. And if these young things think that old Mr. Hotdog is hanging around to raise another litler of puppies….think again ladies.  

Just contemplating this stuff raises my dander.  It brings back fond memories of my six weeks of snuggling with old Don Juan.  Now there was a dog that got it.  He never looked sideways once he met me. He was in it for the long haul.  Why didn’t we keep that sweet guy when we had the chance.  So what if he had to pee every two hours and who cares if he got owner up at 4:30 a.m. to go outside in blizzards to leave some pee mail…..if that’s what he needed, that’s what he needed. Oh Donny boy, where are you now? I could use a little head nuzzle and some  friendly lip licking.  My goodness you knew the way to an old pooches heart.

Don was a victim of the “n” word.  Horrible to think about because a gentler soul has never lived.   The “n” word needs to be banned from all vocabulary.  Barbarity, barbarity, barbarity.  It repels me how easily it slips from the lips of some people as if were acceptable to say.   Me….I have never been able to get over the stutter that starts when I try to say the word.  nnnnnnn……nnnnnn…..gee….I can’t even write it down.    NEUter.  There, got it out, that’s the last time you’ll see that from me.

 

I’m not against the concept, Lord knows we don’t need more homeless  and abandoned dogs roaming our city and country streets.  It is the harsh tones  of the word.  Even human males have been known to cross their legs when they hear it. 

I’m thinking we simply need to give the process a new term. A new advertising campaign needs to be invented and I’ve got a plan.  Benj taught me a song one summer when he returned from Camp Pathfinder up in Northern Ontario.  I guess it is a big old canoeing song or something.  Can’t resist though….here’s a video to show you how  Benj spent 10 summers of his life.

AS usual I’ve gone off topic.   Just had to get that little video in there so you can see the kind of area owner grew up in.  It explains her love of wilderness and Telluride-like environments.

Anyway, to get back to the “n'” word.  My thinking goes like this.  We could use this old camp song Benj loved so much as he did the long three week canoe trip  along the shores of Lake Superior.  I’m thinking of using the term “free balling.”….and stealing the melody from Tom Petty.   Just imagine the peace of mind dogs would feel as they headed off to visit the “v”  (gee, we have a lot of swear words in dog, don’t we)…..knowing they were only heading out to free their balls, not slice them off forever and ever, Amen.  Yup, think I need to start working on this.   We can prevent unwanted pets and create a stress-free thought process for all dogs heading off to the good ol’ vet.   As for me….I’m spayed. See ya later.