The bulldog was a real vicious mother and it's veins screamed from it's neck. Naturally Dugan ducked out to the side, in no rush to pick a fight and everything was completely cool until that crazy bulldog bastard's head came smashing through the window.
He headbutted the window, Dugan! I yelled.
Let's get the shit out of here! Dugan yelled.
And we ran like cheetahs- down the street and hooking a quick left down one of those funky Manayunk side streets. The dog never got out, or at least not that we know of. But it did come smashing through the window- blasted right through what looked like pretty sturdy glass. It pure brute force- American toughness and a strong penchant for not letting any goddamn thing get in your way. But Dugan and I would kick all that around later. It was hot, dogs were destroying homes, and most of the good looking ladies are down towards Main St anyway.
Last Thursday, Dugan and I went for a walk- mid afternoon and it was hot, but we had to do it. Wait- was it Thursday? Yes, yes it was. It was last Thursday. Last Thursday and we started down Shurs Lane- Dugan going one side to the other side and then back to the other side.
That's a beautiful dog, a guy dumpster diving said from across the street.
Who's walking who?
Right now I'd say it's debatable.
I'd say, the dumpster diver said.
Dugan and I continued on and got to Main St, rolled down that for a block or two before snaking down to the Tow Path, the path that runs parallel to Main St. It's quiet down there, Dugan likes the ducks, and in the afternoon, the sun hits it in a way that is both hot and very comfortable at the same time. The exact same time. It's very nice and both Dugan & I seem to dig it.
We walked almost to the end and turned up towards Main St. Dugan loves benches and chose one right away to sit on. He's was bushed and the heat was wearing him down. I sat down next to him. I wanted to keep on keeping on, but I also have been trying to stress teamwork to Dugan and part of being a team is knowing when it's time to take five.
So we took five.
Across Main St came a group of four gals- Manayunk gals with short skirts, bleached hair, large sunglasses, and cute sandals. And here I was sitting there, just relaxing with Dugan who happened to be sitting Indian style next to me. We look pretty goddamn adorable, I thought to myself.
But as the girls walked by-
Well that's original, one said.
Yeah, be creative, another one said.
Jesus Christ I think they were talking about me! They were calling me out for being a tool, just sitting in Manayunk with my good lookin' dog, trying to pick up chicks. When IN FACT, it was that same good lookin' dog who made that call that we sit down. It was his idea! But no, once again, Dugan, instead of helping the cause, hurts it. He's kiling me. You think that after all the time I've spent walking around Manayunk- a well known flower pot of fun, little cuties and glamour gals- with Dugan, from when he was a pup to now, I would have at least met one girl. One.
I haven't met any.
Because Dugan- despite all of his best intentions- is killing me with the ladies. He goes after their little dogs and tries to grab the food out of our their pretty hands. He tears apart the dog park and comes out with slobber strewn over his nose and his ears flipped out like old banana peels.
We've talked about it. He seems to understand, but still- just can't seem to get on message.
But shit, what can you do?
Just keep walking because girl or no girl, we're really just waiting for Dugan to poop.
After that, then we can go home.
You do what you can, and you can what you do.
Goodnight, Mom. Get some rest.