HEY DICKHEAD THAT HURTS, Cutter yelped when I jerked his leash.
He’d stopped and planted and lifted his leg for the bazillionth time and I was over it.
C’mon dudes I screamed, can’t we just WALK?
I’d jerked him along ’cause I was totally over walking them. I was worn out and tired of the two-a-days. What sucks about walking un-neutered male litter-mates is their need to pee on everything. Really.
No, wait. What really sucks is walking un-neutered male litter-mates on trash day when every. single. driveway. has a target.
No, um, wait. What REALLY sucks is walking un-neutered male litter-mates on recycling trash day when every. single. driveway. has TWO targets.
NO, WAIT-THERE’S MORE. WHAT REALLY REALLY sucks is walking un-neutered male litter-mates on recycling trash day when every. single. driveway. has TWO targets AND it’s an August afternoon when the temperature’s 200 degrees with 200% humidity.
So, yeah, my temper mighta flared. A little.
After the flare up we settled and we’re walking along and this woman came off the beach and turned towards us and Cutter kinda nudged Tug and I saw it but I didn’t get it until it was too late.
As we passed the bikini-clad woman Cutter lowered his voice, trying to imitate me, and said NICE BOOBS BABE.
Tug snuffled Cutter in the ear with his nose and they were both snickering and giggling like retards. Good one he said.
The woman just glared at me.
We got about twenty feet away from her and I said I fucking hate you guys, ya know it?
But I was grinning. It was back to being good.