Conversations with My Dog
I grew up owning dogs. My parents owned Boxers and then we started owning Labradors. I cherish those memories and I still tear up when I think about those mutts. Gotcha! I don’t cry because I AM A REAL MAN.
My wife’s father hates dogs. So, when we got our first dog Lucy, she would lay right next to him every time he came over. Fucking hilarious. He would pet her like she was a nuclear bomb inches from exploding.
That dog was amazing. When our first son was 18 months old, we bought him a gizmo that allowed him to sit and then speed around the house using his legs. Thanks to the fact that we had wood floors, that son of a bitch could go like a bat out of hell.
One day my wife and I looked up because the little shit was crying. Reason was that the dog was standing between him and the back porch because if my boy had kept going, he would have gone ass over teakettle.
Fucking legend.
That dog died at age 12 AND PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I DO NOT CRY! We went four years without a pet.
After we moved my wife and children decided “Hey, even though we live in a fucking house that’s a cross between a circus full of crackheads and a bus station on the bad side of town, we need a dog!”
No. No. NO! Says the Master of the House.
So, we get a dog. Chocolate lab, beautiful. The breeder told us that this pup was “the spokesperson” for her litter mates. Warning number one.
We named the dog Kona. (My mother-in-law doesn’t like the name because it sounds like “Conan”. I guess she has a hatred for barbarians? Rest assured when I heard this, I pushed for the name, because pissing people off brings me pleasure.
Kona is now 9 months old and I love her. I also come close to turning this fucking animal into a fur coat at least 21 times a day. She is unlike any canine I have ever owned.
She chews. She digs. She shits everywhere. She sits in my space on the couch.
Did I mention she chews? Here are a few things she has chewed and ruined in her short life.
- A coffee table
- Three wooden stools
- A pair of Beats headphones
- The weather stripping around the front door
- One of my notebooks
- Several Christmas ornaments
- A string of Christmas lights
That, my friends, is a short list.
Kona is dedicated to Mrs. Fozz – welcoming her every morning with a hug and loads of attention. She looks right past me. Fucking dog.
I decided that it was time for a sit down with this cur, and discuss her future with the family, areas of improvement, and why licking herself for five minutes is disgusting and completely uncalled for.
Fozz: Kona, time for a talk.
Kona: Hooman, where is lady? Hungry and need love.
Fozz: She’s gone to work.
Kona: I poop! Everywhere! Then eat tasty poop treats. Better than bones.
Fozz: You’re the only dog I’ve ever owned that eats her own poop.
Kona: Make hole in ground, hooman! Find stones and mud. Eat them too. Stomach hurts.
Fozz: The next hole dug in that backyard is going to be your grave. I might as well start tossing broken appliances and rusty trucks out there to complete the fucking atmosphere.
Kona: HOOMAN WHAT NOISE? WAIT! MAYBE RAT WHO CLIMBS!
[Kona runs into the sliding glass door, slobber is flying higher and thicker than Peter North could ever produce, her hair is up. She runs into the door multiple times. It’s like putting a glass shield between Andy Reid and a serving of BBQed mastodon ribs.]
Fozz: YOU CAN’T CATCH THE SQUIRRELS! THEY ARE TOO FAST YOU FUCKING IMBECILE FUCKFACED ANIMAL! YOU ARE WORSE THAN BAKER MAYFIELD!
Kona: I hate tree rats. Did you see I made family cave pretty?
[I walk into other room, she has shredded Christmas tree ornaments, ripped up an empty box that once contained the leftovers of a frozen dinner, and managed to clear the couch of pillows and blankets.]
Fozz: It’s clobbering time.
[Mrs. Fozz walks into the house. She drops all of her work stuff, leaves the keys in the door, looks past me and Kona bolts to her side.]
Kona: It’s nice lady hooman! I give kisses and hugs and do the whining noise! Hi lady! Do you have food? Do you hate man hooman too?
[Kona turns her head to look at me with eyes that say, ‘You will never get rid of me. I own this house. You dumb fuck.’]
Mrs. Fozz: Kona, you good girl! You the best! Want a treat? Fozz, why isn’t the laundry folded and why is the living room dirty? Can’t you do anything around here?
Later That Night…
Kona: Hooman you watch magic box on wall? Lights are nice! I cuddle with you?
Fozz: Yes. Idiot. I’m watching Trailer Park Boys.
Kona: I like! Wait, need to lick and clean and bark at screen later!
Fozz takes another gulp of bourbon, sighs, remembers when he was young and didn’t want to burn down the world.
My dog decided to out-Kona Kona by eating one of the cat’s catnip toys in its entirety, then horking the results up onto my bed.
Laundry is being done as I type this, and the dog is skulking around like a war criminal trying to get onto a cargo boat headed to Argentina.
Did Iowa State just burn a year of eligibility for a redshirt freshman in a meaningless bowl game? Yes. Yes they did. If I was that kid’s parents, I would slap the snot out of that coach.
Not sure if I told you this Fozz but feed the dog some pineapple. They will not eat their poop with pineapple in it. OxiPug (RIP) had that issue and a bit off Hawaii’s finest cured that disgusting habit.
As for new Litrepug, this SOB gets up at 4 everyday just when we now have Decilitre getting up at 6. We live in a condo and I have to take him out. This morning it was a balmy -35 C with windchill….
My dog does not eat his own shit, but I’m going to now try feeding pineapple to all the deer in town and see if that stops him from eating their shit.
That’s Shawn in the middle, with his twin sister and his friend. My niece Katie is also a fraternal twin. Smart kid wearing a mask, she could do worse!
Awesome!
My niece’s boyfriend ( they both go to Maryland) was at the Pinstripe Bowl at Yankee Stadium. He’s from Queens, so not a huge pilgrimage. The Terps just put an epic beatdown on Va Tech.
Ghislaine Maxwell guilty on five of six counts.
May she rot in prison until the elites have her murdered.
Let her spill all of the tea first.
So… three days?
“…and nothing of value was lost.”
is the lacrosse stick used to play go fetch with the good boy?
That’s the lickin’ stick.
I would love to have a lacrosse stick cause then I could walk around the neighborhood with it and people would think I was a cool LAX bro instead of just some guy stealing fruit from other peoples’ yards.
I always used to enjoy your fruit liberating tales.
*jealous as fuck as I live in a hinterland
There are *still* passionfruit on that vine. None have ripened or fallen in a while, but it’s bonkers how prolific that thing is.
She commandeered that as little pup and it’s hers. My middle son was not amused, as he’s a complete anal retentive jackass with his unbelievable huge collection of lax heads. I am doing my level best to not have him turn into a lax bro.
I could have written this nearly word for word regarding our recent new pandemic puppy, but I didn’t — nice job, Fozz and I may print and post this on the refrigerator so the wife and kids can see where I am headed!
That’s funny because I thought your mother-in-law was a big fan Austrian-born men who served in the military and were thought of as purely German at the height of their fame.
Comment of the fucking year. You do know that Hitler was raised Catholic…
Hi, mad man hooman! I chase trash pandas that other mad man hooman on magic wall box call rakins out of family old food barrels on side of hooman house! Lots of good food inside!
You mentioned no farts. Is that because she’s a shy bitch? Doggie farts around the mother in law could come in handy.
Oddly enough, she is not a farting dog. I’m sure that will come with age.
Growing up our pet dogs pretty much ran the house too. Had a particular Aunt who my Dad took pleasure in riling up the male dog Fritz, to go do his bidding on her. She never came around much, only for the mandatory godmother stuff, bolting soon afterwards.
Ours isn’t either, which is particularly surprising considering she eats every piece of even remotely edible garbage she can get into her mouth.
I love this. Kona is like a smarter, less rapey Ben Roethlisberger.
“YOU ARE WORSE THAN BAKER MAYFIELD!”
Fozz, I love you (not in a gay way, of course; we’re all manly men here), but I have to call the ASPCA for that one. There are some things you simply cannot say to a dog.
Now see, that’s weird, because I love Fozz in the gay way!
He’s not your favorite, though, right? If he is, I’m telling the others!
Go tell dat!
Great cur talk! Also glad to see the spread legs, breeze through the genitals lounging is not an ethnic thing, but summin’ all bitches enjoy.