Long, very long dog story
Since I got my dog I have spent hours pontificating to myself (both inside and outside my head– sometimes on voice recorder on my phone) about all the ways in which he has totally fucked up my life.
Like, totally irreparably fucked it to high hell. He’s taken it by storm, shit all over it and I pretty much no longer recognize it as my own anymore. (Then he ate the shit that contains the remains of my life. ‘Cause he’s tricky like that.)
Sometimes I can’t remember what it was like before I had him. (I’ve had him for less than five months… So I think that’s more a testament to my incredible lack of long-term memory, than my amount of motherly love.)
But you know, before he came along, I had a really good thing going. I slept whenever I wanted, wrote when I wanted. Didn’t go out…
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