I wish I had my own dog. I love dogs. They’re fun, loyal and you can do things with them. Like playing. Running. Mixed martial arts. Picking up women. Truly a man’s best friend. However, my lifestyle doesn’t allow me to have my own dog. I’m always running around, working, going out and it wouldn’t be fair to the doggie. So, I’ve become accustomed to being a “Doggie Brother”. Kind of like a Big Brother to kids but with dogs. It’s always been like this for me. My grandparents had a crazy dog when I was a kid. Pudgie. Pudgie used to go nuts when the phone rang. And he would bite everybody and make them bleed. Especially my grandfather. And yet they kept him. But for some reason Pudgie was cool with me and would let me take him for walks without biting me. Maybe because we were both evil. That’s what my grandfather said. My sister has always been a dog owner too. She had a rottweiler the size of a full-grown black bear. Tyler. He was huge, but a giant teddy bear. I used to dog sit him. After Tyler went to doggie heaven she got a chocolate lab. Bruno. Bruno is special. He picks up dog poop pieces and brings them to you. And he won’t walk on hardwood floors. He also has separation anxiety attacks. And he needs to sleep with the TV on so he can hear voices. I got him a helmet and placed numerous calls to the Dog Whisperer. Watching Bruno is a job and a half. Now that I live in the city I watch a friend’s dog a lot. Ringo.
Ringo is perfect for city living. He’s compact. Easy to move. And pretty self-sufficient. He eats, plays, sleeps and knows to shit & piss when you take him for a walk. Like me. He also loves to run with me. And I got him doing Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. He’s about a brown belt at this point. He’s also a curious little fellow. I call him Benjamin Button. Because he watches everything I do. Which is creepy at times. There was one time I had a pretty lady stay over and Ringo howled until we let him stay in the bedroom with us. His staring was very unsettling. For her. I could go no matter what. His mother hit me hard because of this story when a mutual friend let it slip. Ringo also likes to lay down low when he sees a dog coming then jump into play mode while we’re out walking. Some dogs think he’s attacking. And this leads to fights. Not the dogs, but usually me and some dickhead dog owner. It’s like Mr. Miyagi the teacher showing Daniel his student that he can fight. I can’t let Ringo see I’m just all talk and can only catch flies with chopsticks and shit.
His curiosity also has it’s pros. When he’s prancing around all cute in the Boston Commons chasing squirrels or acting all afraid around duckling statues, women eat this shit up! They ask what kind of dog he is. To which I always reply, “He’s a stallion.” Giggles. They always giggle. For the record, he’s a Shiba Inu. Which means he is pretty much a miniature husky wolf like dog. We met a nice hottie the other day walking her puggle who was obsessed with Ringo. The woman, not her dog. The puggle smelled Ringo’s ass and was all set. She was a real bitch. The hottie however wants to do a doggie play date. I have no idea what the hell people do on doggie play dates. But I’m going to show up. Ringo of course will be back home with his mom by then. I didn’t tell the woman he wasn’t my dog. Are you crazy? I figure I’ll just show up holding his leash crying about how Ringo ran away like Eddie Murphy did in Boomerang. This should work.
Until next time. Always take it there.