You got a dog because you thought, “Hey, I’ll take it for walks, and that’ll be a good way to get a little exercise and get outside. I’ll have a little friend! It’ll be nice!” You fool. You sad, deluded fool. Well, you got your wish. Now, you’ve got a dog that loves you unconditionally, the poor sap. What did it ever do to deserve getting stuck with you? And worse yet, all it wants in the world is for you to get off your ass for fifteen minutes and take it for a walk so it doesn’t have to poop on your floor. That’s it. You’re a god, and all your subject asks is this tiny blessing.
Which you groan and whine and complain about like…well, like a god. They tend to be pretty crappy, really. But little Friendo stares up at you with those big, wet eyes, so you sigh and get up and go try to find something that will pass for pants, at first blush. You do the absolute minimum to keep from having to admit you may actually be dead inside, which is pretty much what it is to be an adult.
But you’re going to need some things first.
Don’t forget the leash! Dogs can be skittish around leashes at first. The best way to acclimate Friendo to wearing a leash is to wear one yourself. This shows the dog that it has nothing to fear and that you share the same yoke of bondage. It’ll also give you some insight into how to yank just right for maximum pain-pleasure. If you reuse the same leash, it will have your smell, which might make Friendo less nervous. Or more. It should really make the dog more nervous. It would make us more nervous, for sure.
Millennia ago, early hominids lived in the jungles of Africa. Back then, life lasted about as long as it took a giant sabre-toothed tiger or a sabre-toothed lion or a sabre-toothed geranium to hunt a person down and eat them. (The geraniums were, admittedly, easier to escape. But they made trips to the florist perilous) There were something like seven big cats just going to town on our ancestors. Ask yourself a question: where are they all now? Answer: dead as shit. And what, pray tell, killed them? Great Grampa Ogg, that’s who. Mankind eliminated the predators that hunted us. Sure, there are still lions and tigers and bears (just stop it.) but, for the most part, these are much smaller, and therefore less people-eaty versions. .
Sure, Great Grampa Off also killed all kinds of other stuff, and we have continued to do so, but let’s take a moment and revel in the sheer badassery of our ancestors. They didn’t take any shit from anything.
Look at you now. You’re standing there, trying not to look at your dog as it poops on somebody’s lawn. And after it does, what are you going to do? You’re going to pick that poop up in a plastic bag and then take it with you. What would Great Grampa Ogg say? Something unintelligible, probably. Then, he might eat you. Perhaps we digress.
The thing is, society. That’s somebody else’s lawn, after all. So you pick up the poop and take it home or the nearest trash can. OUT OF LOVE. Or guilt. Probably mostly guilt. Fyi, Friendo thinks you’re bonkers, BUT STILL LOVES YOU.
On the upside, they make designer bags these days for such things. Ask your dog what color season it is. That way you can tailor your poop bag so that it complements your dog’s fashion type. Your don’t want your spring green bags to clash with a dog that is obviously an autumn. You can also get doggie doo bags with microchips in them for tracking purposes. Though, why you’d want to track that…let’s move on.
It’s commonly assumed that dogs and squirrels are enemies. Dogs chase squirrels to tear into them the way you tear into that chalupa with extra queso. Squirrels run up trees to escape and then taunt dogs about their inadequate climbing ability and how their mothers didn’t love them.
This view couldn’t be further from the truth. Here’s what’s really going on. Dogs and squirrels are in cahoots to overthrow mankind and then enjoy sybaritic lives with all the free acorns they could want. Or dog biscuits. Depending. Mostly, the dogs are just happy to be involved.
The classic dog-squirrel chase serves two purposes. First, to hoodwink dog owners into *thinking* that dogs and squirrels don’t get along, so that humans won’t get suspicious. Second, to pass on valuable information on the coming dog-squirrel revolution.
So, the next time you’re walking Friendo, and your doggy pal suddenly erupts in a fit of barking, maybe you ought to lay off of the cursing and jerking the leash. Maybe you should help. It’s never too late to start campaigning for a choice spot in the new world order, post-dogpocalypse. Dog’s best friend has a nice ring to it.
Other Dogs’ Butts
We haven’t done a ton of research on this one since the unfortunate incident that led to us being banned from the dog park, but we’re given to understand that dogs freaking love sniffing each other’s butts. We’re not sure why. They certainly don’t smell appealing. Our working theory is that this is just something dogs do to fuck with us.
But rest assured, whatever the reason, when you’re walking Friendo and another dog comes near, there’s going to be some butt-sniffing.
Things To Pee On
Dogs get all the breaks. They don’t have to wear pants. They get to chase cars without it being “weird.” They get to pee on pretty much anything. Lucky bastards. But they’re not just peeing. They’re communicating. When dogs pee, they release pheromones which other dogs can smell. The pheromones contain a message. So, what are dogs saying? Mostly ads for timeshares.
But it’s important not to prevent dogs from spreading their message to other, gullible dogs, because the entire dog economy is based on timeshares. We’re going to let you in on a little secret. There’s a decent chance that your dog isn’t actually your dog. See, dogs like to keep things fresh. Living with the same boring human/s can be a drag. So, dogs will often swap out humans — one dog will go live with another’s dog’s family, and vice versa. It’s a good opportunity to see some sights and change things up.
You may be thinking that you don’t believe us. “I would never confuse my dog with another!” First off, wow. Who hurt you and destroyed your ability to trust? Second, quick, without looking, what color is your neighbor’s underwear today? Don’t remember? There you go. Also, don’t underestimate your dog’s disguise capabilities. Your dog has spent its whole life making you think it’s your dog. It has a lot more practice at that than you do. It only stands to reason that another dog could pull it off. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t ways to tell your dog has switched places with another dogs.
Signs of an Impostor Dog
-Is your dog wearing a mustache? You thought it was just trying to be butch, but actually, it may be another dog. Of course, it may also just be making a bold fashion choice, and you should probably be more supportive.
-Has your dog developed a strange accent? Instead of “woof” does it say “guau guau” or “le woof?” This isn’t really something to be worried about, unless your dog begins barking in Russian. If that’s the case, your dog may be trying to tamper with the US electoral process, and you should speak to it to confirm your suspicions.
-Can you smell alcohol on your dog’s breath? It might be time for an intervention.
-Do your dog’s legs seem strangely long? Also, does it say, “Ruff” instead of actually barking and moan when you pull its leash? If you rub its nose in its poo, does it say, “Thank you, may I have another?” Is it dressed entirely in leather? This means that you have a San Francisco Gimphound, which is a surprisingly docile and accommodating breed. They require very little attention and are very receptive of crate training, though they do tend to hump shoes.
There’s also a chance that your dog may actually have been replaced with an alien. If you notice a ray gun hidden under its food dish or a strange glowing pod in the basement, you may want to switch to dry food for a while.
Regardless, it’s important to remember that walking your dog won’t stave off death in the slightest. But it might make you feel like a slightly less lumpy piece of shit when you see how happy it makes the dog.