Please don’t call me a dog person; I’m not. Should you see me walking a little black dog dripping with cuteness or a big brown one lit up with love, don’t go and get the wrong idea. If you hear my voice rise to an excited falsetto proclaiming my love as I pet the aforementioned critters, don’t be fooled. I am not a dog person.
I met the big brown one first. He was attached to the girl I love, and she to him. We sat down together, Mammoth and I, and had a man-to-dog talk when he and I first began to share a home. I explained to him that I am not a dog person; nothing personal or anything, I’ve just never been a fan. I went on to explain that we could still live together and perhaps even enjoy each other’s company in some small way. I know myself, I told him, and I just don’t see my feelings about this changing. Read more