Lactation--it's not just for mommies any more!

When I first came to my new home, it was a long time ago now, but way back then I had some silly behaviors. Even I can't really say why I was such a kook, but then I'm a dog and dogs aren't really known for their insight. Anyway, back to the story---

I was a toy hoarder. I would gather up every toy I could find, carry them over to my pillow, and usually I whined a lot, too. Needless to say, this didn't really earn me any brownie points with the resident dog. In retrospect, I probably should have shared some toys with him, but for some reason, I was oddly compelled to take 43 trips to carry all 43 toys with me every where I went. I couldn't help it.

My humans thought it was a little troublesome that I didn't share: "Hmm. The new bitch is stealing all Rommel's toys," but thought it was a little cute just the same. They'd throw a toy across the room and as I whimpered and promptly trotted over and brought the toy back to my pillow, they'd marvel: "She's goes after things, but why doesn't she bring them back to us? She sucks at this game. Some retriever mix she turned out to be!"

Then one day, the girl human was giving me one of her famous belly rubs when she noticed something odd. "Honey, come look at this--her teats are puffy! Do you think something is wrong?" They both ogled my belly for a while. (I'm okay with that---just keep on rubbin'. )

The boy human, not very experienced in this sort of thing, asked, "Maybe she should have a mammogram or something?" Clearly he was upset as he palpated a little harder. A little light bulb was turning on over the girl human's head though--"Um, you might not want to do that---"

Squirt. Squirt.

"Ooops."

Must be amnesia or something, because I can't remember if I had a litter of puppies before being brought to the pound. Maybe I did, or maybe it was just a strange thing triggered by stress. But those awful humans threw 'my puppies'--all 43 of them--across the room for about 4 days before they wised up about my little imaginary litter.

Of course, like the good dog that I am, I forgave them for it. They know not what they do. Like good humans, they felt very guilty and spoiled me to help me through my rough time. They stopped trying to play fetch with me. I really did suck at it anyhow.

I wasn't preggers for real and was spayed as arranged by the humane society. Now I share all the toys, like the good dog that I am. Happily ever after. Now if I could just fake a little lactation so I could get one of those extra-long belly rubs....

Conspiracy theory

Chocolate...garbage...bugs...cat poop...onions...stealing socks...chasing birds...
What do these things have in common? They're all really fun, but whenever I get the chance to experience them, I'm told, "NO!" or "Drop it!" or "Leave it!"

"They" tell me it's for my own good. But is it? Is it really? How could anything so fun be anything but good? Ponder this, doggies--what if they're not protecting us, but keeping all the good stuff for themselves? Think of this, the next time you're on a walk and you come across something really fun or tasty. It might just be a conspiracy...