Bitch

On my way to work every day I encounter a furry little barky dog who lords over a pile of garbage on the side of the road. Many people pass the dog without incident, but for some reason this dog's decided I am public enemy number one, and barks its silly little head off whenever I come near. It could be sleeping on its pile of garbage, but still somehow senses my presence, and wakes up to tell me off, doggy style.

I bought some dog treats at the big downtown grocery store last week. I will win this stupid little mutt over if it's the last thing I do.

Actually, he is the boyfriend of the local slut. I've nicknamed his girlfriend "Mamadog," because that's what she is. She's either pregnant or raising a puppy or three. She's not friendly either, but will usually let me play with her puppies when they're around. I think she might belong to someone. Sometimes I see her chasing a little girl. Regardless, if she has a master, it's a loose ownership. She's therefore a loose bitch.

I haven't seen Mamadog in about a week, but Barky Boyfriend's been there every day. I should give the furbag credit. After Mamadog's no longer in heat (and knocked up) her boyfriends usually hightail it outta there. Barky Boyfriend's an exception. He's devoted and territorial.

I share my dog treats with him, but I have to whip them at him from a distance. He thinks I'm the devil afterall. Tonight I threw him some munchies on the way to the store to buy me some toilet paper. On the way back, Mamadog finally showed up as well. They both seemed to want the goodies I had in my bag, but were also crazy growly and barky.

From underneath the corrugated steel structure beside the pile of garbage, I could hear the whimpers of their offspring, and I understood. They're being protective, but soon, for me, it's puppy playing time!