My life as a dog owner

Forget what you heard about evolution. Scientists may point to our enlarged brains and opposing thumbs as the cause of it all, but don't believe them. I think our evolution came about less from what we can do and more from what we can't do.

For one thing, we can't lick our balls.

If we could, we'd still be a hunting gathering society with a lot more gathering going on than hunting. Or women would learn to hunt. Look at the lions. The females do all the hunting. Why? Cause the males can lick their balls. They think, fuck the gazelle (which is likely what a male lion would do if he ever bothered to catch one).

It's a guy thing.

Which reminds me: A couple of months ago I got a dog. I call him Spike. Spike Jasper. It's gotta nice ring to it. He's part pit bull, part Dalmatian. The mixture produces a chickenshit with huge fucking jaws.

I'm watching Spike lick his balls, feeling the usual pangs of envy. How far will I take these jealous feelings? Well, I'm thinking of getting him neutered. He'd still lick his balls. But I'd feel a whole lot better.

I'm undecided as to whether I should let Spike have sex before I get his testicles tucked. By sex, of course, I mean with his own species. I'm sure sex with me isn't quite the same, although I've got great hands.

I just do and do and do for this dog.

Should I give him a taste of pussy only to snatch it away? Or would he be better off never experiencing sex? I'm not sure. I'm not even sure it's wise to use snatch and pussy in the same sentence.

The only thing I do know is that Spike's a horny little mutt. I can always tell when he's worked up cause he chews on the wood furniture. Makes sense. Get a little wood, chew a little wood. Does he bite the bone?

Fuck you, I'm not in the mood for dick jokes.

Like me, Spike leads a minimal existence. He's got a small house in the backyard, an impressive collection of sticks (got to keep some wood handy) and a rubber ball. I often wonder if he thinks, "All I have in the world are a few sticks and a ball, but every time this motherfucker Jasper shows up he hurls my stuff clear across the yard. I hate this asshole."

Probably not. He probably just thinks, "Food... sex... food... sex... damn these fucking cats... food... sex." After all, he's male.

We love our dogs, don't we? We feed our dogs, we shelter our dogs, some of us even clothe our dogs. Most of all, we train our dogs. We teach them to fetch, to jump, to catch frisbees, to roll over, to play dead, to bark on command.

Why we never bothered to train them to lick our balls, I'll never know.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 1999 by Mike Jasper.