Out, damn spot!

Spring is here and a young dog’s fancy turns to thoughts of love. I share my home with two dogs. Colt had boy-dog surgery when he was young. Maverick (the name wasn’t changed, because he is anything but innocent) still has all his original equipment. Mav is a Great Dane, which is the only size dog they sell at Costco. It means that his boy parts are large enough that you expect 20 clowns to spill out of them at any given time.

One thing all dogs have in common is flexibility. They can reach their noses around to forbidden territories, while we’re still struggling vainly to lick our own elbows. (Go ahead and try it, we’ll wait.)

I have a rather small house with oversized furniture. It doesn’t leave a lot of room for parking a large economy size creature with a maddening tendency to stand up just as you’re stepping over him. Fortunately I have a large capacity wash machine that can handle a queen size comforter. Said comforter is currently on the spin cycle.

Leave Maverick in the guest room for five minutes, and you’ll find him stretched out on the bed, smoking a cigarette and reading Fifty Shades of Grey. He always looks very pleased with his bad self.

I frequently question the wisdom of having big dogs as I get older. Walking them is a challenge, snuggling with them can cause lack of circulation to important body parts, (e.g. legs, arms, and spleen) and I hesitate to think how many pounds of kibble I’ve hefted over the last few years. It’s not for the weak of heart.

You may think that canine self-gratification is a frivolous blog topic, unless you own stock in laundry soap. The math is pretty simple: large randy dog = don’t go to bed without your snorkel and swim fins.

I should point out that Mav is constantly turning his head because he only is able to see out of his peripheral vision. Let this be a warning to your schnauzers and shih tzus, Mom was right when she said it would make you go blind.

REBUTTAL!!! Do you see anything but innocence in his eyes? (he did enjoy fifty shades of grey)

As Karla's closest friend, marketing director and her muse up until now I have been a silent partner. That has now ended as I am the owner of the very inscrutable dog in question. Karla is not the sweet person you all envision!