Taking a break

being a hard ass.
I had a cry tonight, first in a long time.
I vow to never get another dog.

My first dog's name was BuddyBear. Buddy so he's nice, Bear so he's mean. He was 150lbs of pure-bread German Rottweiler, and would have won competitions if it weren't for a white curl of fur on his cinder block chest. His nicknames included: Beast, Horse, Fuckin' Monster, Biggin', Hoss, and Big Kid, but most of all MUFASA, to which broadens his shoulders, glazed his brown eyes, and made of him a stone guard at the entrance of Hell. But he often just thought himself a bud, one of the guys sitting on the couch, drooling over the babe holding brown paper sacks, mysterious aromatic paper sacks filled with Rally's or Dairy Queen or treats or spaghetti. Spaghetti was BuddyBear's favorite.

Now I'm going going back back to being a hard ass.

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