It Must Be Hormones

For thirteen years I had the canine companionship of my beautiful black lab, Molly, and although she was a female, she was not always lady like. She ate cat poop right out of the kitty litter box like it was a gourmet treat, and often she would engage in licking herself in her nasty areas. Always, after these disgusting things, she would want to give me kisses, and even if I hadn't seen her eat the cat poop, her breath would be a dead giveaway.

When I got Chandler, I figured I was all ready for the mischievous escapades of a young dog. Having gone through Molly's puppy-hood and growing pains, I figured I knew all about dogs. I've watched him eat wallpaper off of the wall. He has chased Fat Kitty, only to be slashed by her razor sharp claws, and bleed all over the place (by the way it hasn't stopped him from harassing her). He has eaten my reading glasses, one of Marks shoes, and destroyed more than one roll of toilet paper. But I wasn't ready for what came next.

My friend Dennis had warned me. When I told him that I had adopted a little puppy, a male puppy, he said, "look out, they try to hump everything.". "Not my dog", I said, "he's been fixed. He doesn't even own a pair of balls. Why would he try to do the humpty hump?".

So today, because Chandler has been behaving like a big boy, I pulled out Molly's old dog bed for him. I figured he would be able to lay down next to my big chair comfortably instead of laying on the hard floor. When I put it down he immediately walked over and laid down on it. Great, I thought, he gets it. He got it all right. Within just a few seconds, he had pulled it up under himself and started humping it. It was then that I realized, I had given my adolescent dog, the equivalent of a blowup sex doll.