For the Love of Dog

I embrace being a social pariah when I share my opinion on pet ownership. Not liking dogs has become the moral equivalent of baby seal clubbing. When I see the dog park being a main social attraction to meet others, I know we are at some strange phase in the collapse. 

A while back, my brother had a gig to help a back-issued, closet opiate-addicted boomer deliver boxes out of a beat-up FedEx truck. He ended up doing all the physicalities of the job. This meant getting chased down by Pitbulls while delivering boxed wine to some “almost divorced” leather-faced wench. He noticed a trend in dog food coupled with unmarked boxes when shook sounded like a rubber pinball inside. One day the faded boomer saw my brother’s look of confusion over the packages being shipped together. “Dog Food And Dildos; It’s What We Do!” Taken back with a heavy laugh, my brother asked, “you’re joking. Right?”. He repeated, “Dog Food And Dildos, It’s What We Do!”

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-John Deaux