having a bad day at the mall trying to kill time feeling the urge, I visit the local pet store or shelter to play with puppies.
The first puppy I ever played with was an Australian shepherd. He was such a cutie. And he loved me. The feeling was mutual.
I played with that puppy for over an hour. I even named him. I called him “My Australian Shepherd.”
Because I’d never had a dog before, I was scared of the responsibility (mainly the poo), so I had limited options.
- Convince Kiefer to adopt My Aussie.
- Convince my parents to adopt him.
Kiefer declined (that’s the real reason I broke up with him), and my parents declined as well (I knew they never really loved me).
That left only one option: Me.
So I decided that if such an adorable puppy was still there the next day, it was fate. He was meant to be mine. Then I found out My Aussie cost $1,200. Thank goodness someone else adopted him, and I ended up with Esme the cat, who was roughly $100.
Since I lost My Aussie, I’ve become a bit of a puppy whore. Not only do I visit the pet store frequently, I also like to play with friends’ dogs.
In fact, if you don’t have a dog, I can’t be friends with you unless…
- You’re super cool and awesome.
- You buy me ice cream.