..if they were really, really bad you could send their ass to the pound

I think this one speaks for itself. I don't know whats worse for a a dog; going to the pound, going to the vet, or having to lick your own ass. I am stumped.  I would love to say "You have been bad now go to MY room" but unfortunately sometimes they don't always need to be "punished" in my room if you get the gist. So, yes, when they misbehave because of not being able to keep their dirty little hands to themselves or whatever it is boys do I would absolutely love to go drop them off at the pound for a day, two days, a lifetime, and maybe even trade in for an upgrade. One womans trash is my new best friend.

I wonder if even taking them to the pound would fix them and make them have their "I see the holy light" moment. Sometimes I think that there are certain "breeds", sort of like Rottweilers, Pitbulls, and Dobermans, who if their mommies didn't gone and raise them right, its hopeless. You just cant change that shit; mean is mean. So ladies, if you have a Doberman or a Rottweiller gone wrong.. take his ass to the pound, drop him off, and tell them he has rabies or gonastiphalitis. Dont feel bad about it either. What is the famous line people always love to use.."its for the best...he is suffering".Just keep running that line through your head, grab a friend, and drop him off. HE IS SUFFERING and YOU are responsible for putting him out of his misery.


Now there are the 'few and far between' exceptions when it comes to these monstrous, scary breeds. The ones who may not be able to see the Holy Light but they can see a sliver of it. These are the ones that you drop off at the Petsmart training courses twice a week and hope they make friends with the sweet and cuddly Black labs and shaky taco loving Chihuahua's. Once they get some positive influence, a good group of friends, BAM its like Jesus himself just scratched him behind the ear. Brand New Dog. Brand New Man.


So, moral of the blog is, if boys were dogs, there is always the pound.