I need a condom the size of a thimble and I need it now.
Spring has definitely sprung here in the Midwest. The signs are all around me. There are flowers blooming, baby birds chirping and my four pound Yorkie, Tanner, is humping everything in his path.
It's quite the display. He is so tiny, and still so young at only six months old, that it's hard for me to imagine he is even capable of such behavior. Apparently he is not only capable of it, he is a downright love machine.
He has a little purple stuffed dog for which he has developed a particular romantic interest. To quote my Daddy, he loves her harder than a goat loves a stump.
She has no eyes, so she can't see him sneaking up on her and her mouth is sewn shut so there is no chance she'll turn him down. As far as he is concerned, she is the perfect life partner. I'm guessing she'd be the perfect life partner for a lot of men I know, too. After having seen the kinds of things Tanner does to her, I am thinking of amending my will to insure Mr. Crazy On My Face takes me to a bonafide funeral home after I die, rather than a taxidermist.
Most of the time I can tell when the dog is feeling particularly amorous. He starts searching the house over for her. He checks under the sofa, in his kennel and just in case she's being stealthy, he checks the cat's litter box. If he doesn't find her, I can hear him start to sing that old Queen song, "Find Me Somebody To Love" and I know something is about to be systematically violated.
I'm one of those cool moms though, so rather than have him take his puppy love to town and maybe get some pound bitch pregnant thus ruining the rest of his life, I try to help him locate his woman. At least I know she is fixed and I won't wind up with little stuffed animals. And, I've been around long enough to know that no matter how much I try to tell him true love waits, he'll just sneak around behind my back and do it anyway. It's better he feels he can do it here, rather than in the front seat of a Chevette on prom night with some hot to trot poodle that promises she'll marry him.
I'm sure some of you would advise that I take him to the vet and have this problem dealt with medically. That's not an option quite yet. You see, little Tanner is a stud that I hope someday will sire some beautiful, pedigreed, expensive, money-making grandchildren for me. I mean, he's doing it anyway. Why not pimp him out and make a little something for Momma? And after he has done the deed for cash and prizes a few times, I will reward him by buying him a new chew toy and having his manhood completely removed.
Mr. Crazy says none of this will be a problem in another couple weeks anyway. That's when I'm going to take him to Madame Prissy Butt's House of Dog Beauty to have him groomed and to have a big ponytail with a blue bow placed on top of his head. The theory is, once I haved robbed him completely of his masculinity, he will undoubtedly experience puppy erectile dysfunction and leave the ladies alone out of sheer embarrassment.
If it works, I plan on having Madame Prissy Butt groom Mr. Crazy as well. Nothing says loving like a big blue bow in your man's hair.
Copyright © 2004, Sherri Bailey
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