In an honest effort to keep my blogging/journal steam going, I figured the next best subject of my life would be the creature that sits faithfully on my lap while I type anything from my blog to the random names of my favorite porn stars (Rebecca, Candy, Kimmy… Sam…). This said creature would be in-fact my dog.
My dog’s name is Da-Jung. He comes from a long line of… well, actually, I’m not really sure how long his line goes, but I do know that he’s a mutt… so that pretty much means at least one percent of him 
comes from either the time of the pharaohs or at the very least one of the world wars. A mutt is what I’d like to consider a dog breeder’s nightmare, and for me, the equation for an even better dog. My dog is a combination between a Yorkie and a Maltese. He has golden brown hair, so the possibility of a golden retriever having sloppy seconds hasn’t quite been ruled out. He’s smaller than a cat and is probably the most dependent creature on the planet. I say this with full mind that human babies can be quite bitchy when separated from their significant parents. He grooms himself regularly, and has a nice blue dog bed that sits in the corner of my apartment. Yes, I’ve made myself a homebody. Now, while the description of the dog is probably the most amazing thing to read about, it really becomes a tad bit moot when a simple glance at a picture will probably do him justice.
First things first… I’ve always been a cat person. So the first thing that I’ve really had to adjust to is its undying devotion to me. I mean seriously, if he’s not on my lap, he’s at least fucking looking at it. While a person could construe this in a multitude of ways, or at least I would, I don’t really think it’s a great ball of lust in his eyes. According to vet who he was adopted from, the lil’ pup comes from an abusive home. He was constantly reprimanded and is rather insecure about everything he does do to it. I can see this in multiple ways, because, at least in my presence, he hasn’t uttered a single bark since the two months I’ve had him. While his love is endearing and has a high chance of winning over the stingiest of dog haters, it does mean that I really do, or should, spend a lot of time with the little one. This involves in the least taking him on walks around the neighborhood. While I am an outside person, I do not consider myself enjoying the same tree stump yesterday as much as he does. Also, on nights I actually feel social; I usually have to at least stop by 
my house for even a half an hour after work before hitting the town. Cats are much simpler.Let it be known that I am in no way considering taking mister pups down the river anytime soon, for I far more enjoy the dog than despise it. He is the most obedient dog I’ve ever met. Every night I come home, he runs to greet me, not a bark is made, and I just snap my fingers and he’s patiently waiting in his dog bed until I’m ready to meet him. He doesn't quite play chess, but he’s learning… Well that, or he’s at least learning the basics of the “sit” command. He’s great for hikes and if you unleash him on a beach he’ll shit himself with joy that is impossible to prevent from spreading.
While this blog post doesn’t really quite have a point, I just decided to throw it up to give the impression of a valid update.
Song: Usher -OMG
No comments:
Post a Comment