The other week, I was sitting outside at a cafe in my neighborhood, I look over, and some guy is pulling his bulldog (on his back) down a grassy hill with the leash. THE DOG WAS TOTALLY LOVING IT. It was the cutest thing I had ever witnessed in the history of the universe.
Have I ever mentioned how much I want a bulldog? It’s definitely in the “when I’m rich” category, because each of the few times I have mentioned it to people, I practically get yelled at about how bulldogs fart a lot and die young. But you could pull it down a hill!!! And I would name him Frank! And he could ride a skateboard!
All up, the bulldog is the most badass dog in the whole freaking universe. They just sit there and look cool. And I don’t even like dogs, for the following reasons:
1) Holding. How does one do this?
2) You CONSTANTLY have to give them attention (see #3)
3) When you’re talking with someone, who has a dog that is present, the conversation very rapidly becomes the following: “oh look! look at the dog! look what he’s doing now! oh, did I tell you about what he did yesterday?! Oh look now!”
4) Jumping. GET. OFF. ME. NOW. AND. SIT. And the whole doorbell thing – you ring someone’s doorbell, just to hear a frightening STAMPEDE of dogs snarling at the door (cough AMY). I almost want to be like, you know what? I’ll be in my car. We can meet at the restaurant?
If I got a dog, it would need to just exist, and not act like an asshole all the time. It’s like children – they are adorable and awesome and totally worth it – when well behaved. That might sound old womanish, but whatev.