Yesterday, my dog walking duties took me to a new house. Unfamiliar dogs require a strategy: open the door, say the dog's name several times in a bright, happy voice, and hope it doesn't go for the balls.
Arlo, a pint-size beagle, kept his distance. He wiggled a few steps towards me before losing courage and darting away, stopping only to launch a few high-pitched barks at the strange man in front of him.
Unfortunately for Arlo, dogs are the only creature in the animal kingdom that
Or, for Arlo, half a sausage treat, no bigger than a thumbnail. Before his treat, my intention was obvious: to snatch Arlo and ship him to the processing department of a Puppy Juice Factory. Afterwards, I could obviously be trusted, because bad people don't have treats.
If you think the logic behind this is suspect, let me say this: terrorists hate freedom. We didn't go to war for WMDs. Bad people don't have treats.
Face an unfriendly dog, though, and all it takes to gain his love is tossing him the doggie equivalent of a string of Mardi Gras beads. Flip them titties, doggie! Papa wants to take you on a walk.
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