This morning I looked right into the eyes of my tiny little Yorkie and told him he was going to go for a lovely ride. His tail wagged, he licked my hand and he hung his head out the driver's side window all the way....
...to the Vet's office.
This is where you should hear the theme to Jaws playing in your head.
Last week, after he violated the neighbor's lesbian dog yet again, I decided it would be best to lop off his testicles. Nothing personal. But when a male dog cannot be controlled in any other way, testicle removal can prove to be very effective in curbing unsavory and embarrassing sexual behavior. I found that daily being forced to see Tanner make sweet, sweet love to his teddy bear with no eyes met both those criteria.
Mr. Man and my son were not nearly as enthusiastic about my decision.
"How could you let them cut off Tanner's penis, Mom?" asked the boy with whom I seriously need to have a talk. "How will he pee?"
"They aren't removing his penis, Dear. They are going to remove his testicles so that he can't make babies."
"If I don't want to have babies, are you going to do that to me?" he asked, wide-eyed, bottom lip trembling.
"It's very possible, son. If you ever get the urge to make a baby, just remember that Mom will be forced to chop off your testicles."
It's my belief that a bizarre and sick obsession about having your mother neuter you if you "do the do" will prove to be fabulous birth control. Later on, I plan on showing him pictures of extreme circus freak cases of VD and telling him you get it by touching a girl's breasts before you're married.
Feel free to nominate me for parent of the year.
Mr. Man had concerns of his own.
Ring, ring, ring. (Or in the case of my phone, annoying cell phone music plays.)
"Hello," I say in my sweetest, try to be sexy, phone voice. I make it a habit to answer the phone like a phone sex operator on the off chance that James Spader is calling.
Wow. It's Mr. Man calling in the middle of the day, which almost never happens.
"Bear, I've been thinking. I've not been very nice to you lately and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry."
Hmm. This is an interesting turn of events. Mr. Man is saying he's sorry without my having to spend seventy-two straight hours of intense and careful explanation peppered with the occasional expletive as to why he should be sorry.
"What are you sorry for exactly?" As a card carrying member of womankind, I cannot in good conscience let him off so easily. I will need details, dates and a specific list of offenses in order to grant forgiveness.
"I'm just sorry, that's all. I'm sorry for not being nicer to you," he answers. And then the clue I needed to solve this change of attitude mystery.
"So, how's Tanner?"
Aha! Now I get it. Now I know why he's suddenly seen the error of his ways.
"Tanner's fine. He keeps looking around for his testicles though. I think he's hoping they've just been moved to an undisclosed location somewhere on his body. The best news though is that he's very snuggly and loving right now. All he wants to do is sit with me and love me."
"I love you, Honey. I'll sit with you and snuggle." says the Man that is convinced I am going to have his testicles lopped off if he doesn't straighten up.
"You should have seen him this morning, Mr. Man," I say. "I totally had him convinced that we were just going to take a ride and enjoy life. I even let him hang his head out the window. I can't believe how easy it is to fool a young dog."
"Yeah, poor guy never saw it coming."
"By the way," I say turning back on the phone sex voice which I know fries the logic part of his brain, "on your next day off, I'd really like us to take a nice, long ride in the country and spend some quality time together.
"I'll even let you hang your head out the window."
I can't believe how easy it is to fool an old dog.
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