Protest as we do about not becoming one of those dog people, the type that refer to you by your dog’s name, we are not at that point yet. I say yet because I go to find a picture on my dear lady’s phone and find that the breakdown of content is the following:

80% Dog
10% Me
10% Scenery (flowers, trees, that kind of thing)

Now that part is not all that strange. She is incredibly photogenic, the dog. The breakdown reminded me of another time that I was at a loss for words. As is the usual for my memorable occasions (that do not occur within my own house) I was in a nearby bar. Not the nicest bar by any means but also not one that I worry about getting shanked, or that appear to be having an awards supper for homeless including a shrimp ring.

So while at the bar I strike up a conversation with a man. Construction worker. We get talking, I tell him I used to work construction, but that is about all the chit chat I have for him. He tells me about his life, family and whatnot, but when he pulls out his phone to show me pictures he skips over any of his family or anything else and goes straight to photos of the dump truck he drives. The photos are followed up with way too much talk about his driving the dump truck.

This is what I worry might happen to my lady or I if i am not careful. No one wants to be that guy.

So here is a drawing of the dog laying around like a little baby princess:

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