“Tail at two o’clock” is the first thing I said when we got to the park last night as I craned my neck to watch a black lab run through the forest to our right. Beau thinks we’ve been taking walks for exercise but really, it’s just a cheap excuse to ogle puppies and use my secret dog weapon, a “misdirected” Frisbee, to cop a scratch behind their ears. Frisbees are to dogs what Huffies are to children. Lately the dog lust has gotten worse. I spent 15 minutes chatting up my landlord in the hall last night because his adorable mutt was alternately sniffing me and going through my laundry basket. I am the construction worker of the animal kingdom. I shout obscene things at your pets and they secretly feel flattered.
Luckily, they have places for people like me. Institutions that use our sickness in a constructive way: animal shelters. So, between my September sabbatical (Did I mention that? Yeah, I’m not getting a job until October. More on that later) and my willingness to be a free walking pooper-scooper, I’ve decided to volunteer a few days a week at the local animal rescue. Tonight is my second orientation. I’ll be touring the facility and getting a lesson in proper dog walking form which I believe involves triple sow cows but I’m not entirely sure.
2 comments:
Very cool. Do you like drool? Buckets and buckets of drool? If so, you are welcome to have my dog. She's not very smart but she's very loving and sweet.
Dude, you already have a job...you're my life coach! Thanks for the rec, I ordered it and can't wait to read it.
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