I was recently getting my pash on with a boy on my couch. And then my dog spewed up. Also on my couch. Cos nothing says romance like doggy spew.
And from that moment, I knew it was all over between me and the poor lad. I couldn’t get him out of my house quick enough.
Because when it comes to having my back, looking out for me and judging who is worthy of my time, I reckon my little fur ball has got it covered.
Whenever I’m in the bath, my dog puts her head around the bathroom door every ten minutes; I’m sure it’s just to check I haven’t drowned.
Whenever I sleep past 7am, my dog wakes me by wandering up and down my person till I get up and walk her; I’m sure its cos she knows I need the exercise.
And whenever I’m sad, my dog rests her precious little head on my body, and listens to my problems for as long as I want to tell her about them (no matter how many glasses of wine are sacrificed in the process); I’m sure she knows sometimes a girl just needs to let it out.
Since adopting her, my little pooch has met many potential suitors (well, not many. Just, you know, a normal amount for a girl who likes to date). Some, she hated straight away, and would bark and carry on like someone had just told her shmackos had gone into liquidation. And low-and-behold, those blokes never lasted long. Some, she would have a good sniff of and simply walk away, like she was telling me not to bother wasting my time. With my most recent ex, she hated him at first, but did warm to him (even though he transpired to be evil). In her defense, though, he did bribe her with gourmet treats. I can’t blame the poor girl for thinking with her stomach. Heck, he bribed me with gourmet treats (albeit of a different variety), too.
Even in day to day happenings, my pup will either love you or hate you, and looking at those she has instantly warmed too, it’s obvious she is an expert at judging character. My wonderful family, circle of closest girls, and even the friendly bloke who makes my latte every morning were all instantly loved. Meanwhile, the mean old take-away man who apparently didn’t have change for a fifty, my friend Noel (who, while lovely, doesn’t speak highly of his own dog, so is clearly not a dog person) and the that other bloke I dated who turned out to be in a long term relationship, have all got the wrath of a pup who looks like she belongs on toilet paper commercial, but barks and growls like the devil-dog herself.
Some may say I’m crazy to trust my dog. To those people I say Welcome to the crazy dog lady club; I’m your president, Naughty Miss Jones.
It has been proven dogs are very perceptive and understand human emotion, even when not spoken, and my own observations could not support that prospect more.
To finish this entry, I would like to share a (slightly altered to better deliver my message) quote from the undoubtedly wisest women of our time.
“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my pup”
Boys, I hope you’re taking note, and filling those pockets with a shmacko or two.
Naughty Miss Jones xx