by Jack Perkins
Dogs are wonderful.
They bark all day (and all night) and the ground is their smorgasbord
of unmentionable delights.
When you pet them your hand feels greasy.
A stranger’s dog will snout you in places you’d not let a stranger touch and they are never my type.
They bother you while you eat.
You pretend they are cute or your friend won’t like you.
They don’t wipe their feet and their pee kills drought-tolerant plants.
They knock over your wine glass and might kill your neighbor’s cat.
They are like a hairy Svengali and you will take them for a walk.
Everyone will step in it, and they’ll run off when you least expect it.
They don’t look both ways and they don’t cross on green.
Shedding. I could go on.
Hai-pooch:
Hairy schnozzola
Headed for my private parts.
Blocking maneuver
Leash.
Those 20 foot leashes, so you don’t say no. Are always fully extended, and the dog still pulls. People propelled by their dog’s pulling. Walking their person., who is trying to be nice. Leaving their mark on lawns and sidewalks. The brigand hound leads their slave.
