title
cherry the boy

humping the dinosaur

officer frenchie



When I poured kibble - lamb meal and rice, good quality protein, no artificial fillers - he refused to eat it unless I thumped him on his haunches and said encouraging things. There, there! Aren't you a special man? and Who's a pretty baby doggie boy? Why you are! Yes, you! and Eat your kibbles, honey! Yes, eat your kibbles! Only when the puppy's confidence was up and he had been adequately praised, would he eat. He'd eat, and I'd applaud - Hooray! - and he'd crunch his kibble and growl while wagging his tail.

The puppy didn't like to be left alone. He didn't like to be ignored. There were days when it seemed like he could never get enough attention to satisfy his need for attention. The puppy would get depressed. He'd sigh. He'd stare at the wall or at his feet in an impassive way. He'd burp like a human burps. Or he'd shred something. He'd take a book, a sweater, a twenty dollar bill under the dining room table, and he'd shred it.

I understood him completely.