Wednesday, November 15, 2006

The one where Chad talks about a different dog

When I was a boy, I didn't have birds or bees around to tell me about sex. I learned it from my dog, Paddington. Paddington was a terrier, beagle mix. A good old fashioned American mutt.
I'll skip the nostalgic, misty eyed talk about the dog and go straight to the sex.

Paddington had a thing for stuffed animals. He'd walk into a room, see a stuffed bear on the floor, and get a "look" in his eye.

The look said something like, "Yeah, I'm gonna go hit that bear"

The visual of Paddington plus the comment, "Oh, the dogs humping that teddy bear" were two essential elements that I used to put together what "Sex" was.

I remember years later after the novelty of a bear humping dog had long worn off, my friend came over and brought his stuffed dog.

Paddington went nuts. He was having his way with that dog within minutes of its arrival into the house. There was no long glances across the room, no days upon days of courtship. He was doing the dirty bird like it was the last time he'd ever get the chance. When he finished he looked like he had just been with The Bangles, The Go Go's and Banannarama. We had to put the stuffed dog up where he couldn't reach.

Here is a side note for this dog. My dad stayed home or was out of work or something. He taught the dog to drag his ass across the floor on command. It was the same way anydog with worms will do it, except he didn't have worms. You say "Pants on Fire" and he would drag his ass all over the place. It was the first thing we showed anybody who came to the house for the first time.
Happy Wednesday, I thought it was Tuesday.

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