A droubble by Ionicus
I have been told not to give up hope, that every dog has his day, but I have realised that mine is a lost cause.
It was foolishness to believe that I could succeed with such a sophisticated creature, whose pedigree was of the highest order. Of mixed parentage, my origin was dubious to say the least.
Yet, in her demeanour I saw encouraging signs that stimulated me in my pursuit. Whether it was love or lust I cannot say. She exuded an animal magnetism that I found irresistible.
Well aware of her sex appeal, she welcomed the attention of her admirers whose behaviour, at times, amounted to an out-and-out hounding. I indicated my disapproval and this must have been a bone of contention as her attitude towards me cooled somewhat.
I knew that she wanted to humiliate me, to see me off with a tail between my legs, when I learnt that she had become promiscuous and had been engaging in dogging in the local car park.
I was furious and decided to confront her.
“Bitch!,” I growled.
I would have attacked her if I hadn’t been restrained by my leash.
“Why are you barking, Rover?”, my owner asked.