This fuckin’ idiot… He’s a boxer named Scooter and he’s about five months old. Now, as far as I can tell, dogs are supposed to get smarter as they age. They’re supposed to learn shit and do tricks or whatever. This dumb motherfucker gets progressively more retarded with every passing day.
Did you know that if you blow your stanky breath in Scooter’s face he will lick the air indefinitely? Yes. That silly bastard will flick his too-fuckin’-big-ass- tongue like a Parkinson’s afflicted cobra for as long you’re willing to look equally as dopey blowin’ in his grill-piece. Don’t ask me why I know this, you judgmental dick! That’s my business.
He also thinks he’s invisible. Yeah, you read that right. He will stretch all four of his limbs out to scoot on his belly, sometimes with his chin on the ground as well, and crawl as if he was on some high risk Force Recon mission to get to the stinky, slimy rawhide he’s been munchin’ on for nearly an hour. News flash, fucktard! Nobody wants that nasty shit. Only you. Now, in fairness, it is funny as fuck when he sneaks up on one of the kids and tries to pull off a run-by humping. But he doesn’t even do that right. Do you understand how dumb you gotta be to fail at rubbing one out? I mean, I’d push him away if he was actually succeeding, but this asshole looks more like Christopher Reeves tryin’ to butt-fuck Steven Hawking in a conga line.
One time I was trying to play with him by getting him to chase some stupid toy around the house. He’s a chipper little dude, so when I lifted the toy up he would jump up to snap at it. I’m thinking: Finally, we found something he doesn’t fail at. Wrong. Second attempt at a jump and he does some half-assed backflip, panics in mid-air, and lands directly on his back. I probably would’ve been in stitches laughing, but I was too worried about how much money he was about to cost me. Imagine trying to explain to a veterinary surgeon that your dog broke his back because he’s stupid. Not because he got hit by a car, not because he was abused… but because he was genetically predisposed to idiocy. Luckily, if you’re gonna be dumb you gotta be tough, so he walked it off. And this was after I had to stop playing ball with him because the stupid mutt couldn’t figure out how to work his own brakes and kept slamming into the front door and shit every time the ball bounced.
His only saving grace is that he’s cute as hell. I mean that sincerely. Every time I find myself staring blankly at his gaping, idiot face, wondering what it’s like to be dumber than Lil’ Wayne, I find hope for Scooter. Don’t be Lil’ Wayne, Scooter. There’s hope for you yet.
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