No, we’re not going inside.
You and I both know you have to poop. No, don’t fake squat again, looking all expectant, I see through you, you little shit.
Shit would be good about now.
If we go in now, I know I will turn my back and find you sitting politely, tail wagging, in front of steamy mountain in about ten minutes. I smell Nature’s Miracle in my dreams.
No. We’re not going inside. I’ve long past become incapable of embarrassment or guilt at how you cry and try and tug me towards the door. Nope. We’re gonna stay right here on this grass patch until I see excrement.
[ooooooh, sitting and following commands after another doggy comes out, very good boy!]
I’m letting you eat some leaves because honestly I don’t have the energy to dig every single one out anymore. No, no rocks. Drop the snail (WHERE did you get a snail?).
[he’s pacing. Pacing. Nope, false alarm. Paced to try and get closer to the door.]
You wanna sit and stare at me? Fine. IDGAF. I stole my fiancé’s fleece lined flannel from LL Bean; I’m ready. I got my pajama pants on, glasses, and no fucks left to give. Try me, little cretin. I will literally out persist you. We will stand here all morning, I swear to god.
[more pacing. Let’s delicately go round in circles to keep out of your way and encourage you to continue]
You decided this Monday morning that instead of sleeping 11 pm – 6 am, as you have been doing for weeks, you would demand to go out at 2 am, 4 am, and 5 am because fuck us I guess. You didn’t even have to pee.
One of these days when you try to launch yourself off our balcony I’m just gonna let you [not really but it’s getting tempting by the minute in this 30 degree Monday morning]
GOOD BOY WHAT A GOOD DOG YES! WHO’S THE SMARTEST HANDSOMEST PUP? Ok plz wait I have to pick it up. Ok let’s go! Fine, you can bring the stick.