It’s been able a week since Win came over and if what we were initially going through was the fabled “Honeymoon Phase,” you can bet your favorite water bowl that the magic’s worn out by now.
Don’t get me wrong; Win is as gentlemanly as hes ever been – and that’s the problem.
I can’t believe I’m saying this after years and years of being neglected and abused by my family [remember the time they bought me that tie-dye collar and made me wear it in PUBLIC?! Ew, the TORTURE!!], but I’ve finally come to the conclusion that there’s such a thing as being TOO polite.
And if there’s one thing that Win certainly is, it’s too polite.
I must admit that, at first, it was GREAT. I loved it when he let me eat up all his lunch without a word and that one time he took the blame for pooping in the foyer [WHAT?? “Verbal” isn’t the only kind of diarrhea I have], I all but swooned.
But then things started to get real boring, real fast. I’m the kind of dog who adores a good debate; a Labrador who lives for a little drama. But Win is too kind to ever hit back, too gentle to cause a commotion.
Before this week, I’d always wished for a collected, composed, cool-as-a-cucumber kind of a canine to enter my life and sweep me off my paws every time I spotted a shooting star [or even when I laid eyes on a cruising airplane, if I’m being honest – hey, I’m not picky!!].
But now, I’m not so sure that’s what I want.
Maybe my melodramatic, psycho family is kinda’ perfect for me, after all.
[OhmyGOD, I can’t believe I just thought that!! My family and PERFECT?? Yeah, right. The conspiracy theorists were right, I guess – staying online for too long wacks up your brain. I’m outta’ here before I start sputtering things like “Trump might have a brain” or some such nonsense. Peace!!]