The Wind in My Fur
My dog Zeke has a dream of one day driving himself to the dog park.
I have have a dog named Zeke. He’s 50% Chihuahua, 50% Parson Jack Russell and 1000% Insane Crumb Hunter.
He has an issue with mailmen and big fluffy dogs. The aggression towards mailmen is a standard requirement for doghood. As for fluffy dogs, it’s a combination of overt sexual fetish and a helping of “Fluff Envy,” similar to how bald guys dream of being in an 80’s Hair Metal band.
Watching little Zeke at the dog park as he skulks around in “masher mode,” and then tries to mount a huge Alaskan Husky, provides a fair amount of embarrassment for all concerned parties, except for Zeke.
If he were a human, I’m pretty sure he’d be that convict who, when arriving at a new prison, has to prove how much of a bad-ass he is by picking a fight with the biggest guy in the prison yard.
Sure, he has his issues, but I also have mine so we have a mutual support system.
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