Woof

I got a dog. It started as a joke. “I don’t need no man, I’m getting myself a dog.” That was in 2017. I did nothing and continued to have dates from hell (or Match.com.)

Then I met a nice guy. Ha! And then, I saw my neighbor’s puppies and just HAD TO have the golden one. So my first statement was a self fulfilling prophecy. A week later at dinner, Mr. Wonderful (actually Professor Wonderful since I’d raised my education standards) seemed a bit distracted. He barely commented when I told him I was looking for a condo down the street by the park where we walk.

We went back to my place to watch a movie. Yada yada yada… And the puppy peed on him. (I told him not to rough house with her.) As his pants were spinning in the dryer, I tried to make light of it.

“At least the mystery is solved about boxers or briefs” was met with a half smile.

The movie ended, he put his pants on, kissed me on the cheek and went home. I felt bad about the pants, but that’s what puppies do. Oh well.

Oh no. Just no. The next day, I got a text that Professor Wonderful didn’t think we were a good match after all. Because of a semi-humorous incident with a puppy? No. The reason for his decision was that he realized I didn’t have a good sense of judgement.

Apparently getting a dog I’d been thinking about for two years and looking for a new place to live that wasn’t on a busy street was cause for alarm.

Then he went on a trip and I haven’t heard from him since.

So, I have the cutest puppy in the world who has successfully completed obedience training, and is housebroken. I live in a beautiful place where I can walk in the park whenever I want. I’ve also lost 20 lbs from walking the dog whenever she wants. And I’ve realized I don’t need or want no man.

The Professor, however, is still an ass.

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