Walk about...

People have tried to give me all sorts of advice about how to meet prospective admirers. Most of them seem to depend on the all too important facet of actually leaving my house. Huh, go figure. For those of whom have known me closely over the past few years, you probably know how much my house means to me, for various reasons. It's exemplified by the fact that I am always tirelessly working away at updating, refreshing, and modernizing it, just for 'funzies.' I used to have more dinner parties, festivities and such, but these days, I am more of a homebody.



One of my few respites away from my 'home-work' is walking dogs, mine or otherwise. I am a small business consultant, and one of the businesses I manage is a pet sitting company in DC. Over drinks, my friends endlessly tease me about how dogs are 'chick-magnets.' Well, I can see theoretically what they mean at a quick glance. But upon closer inspection, it's a little more complicated.

I can't tell you how many times an attractive stranger has walked by, and let out a lingering "Awwwwwe... What a cute dog!" The appropriate response is a quiet nod, a hushed "thank you," and a quick call to the dog in hopes that it will have one last bout of ridiculous cuteness to sustain their fleeting interest. But... But. . .

There are those times when these 'chick-magnets' act like the most fervent repellents known to the animal kingdom. Anyone who has met my dog knows he is but one example. 'Bub le Bubs,' a formerly abused pit bull from the Richmond area (whom my friend hypothesizes was a close associate with Michael Vick's cronies) is still a neurotic mess. He seemingly only wants to snarl at my friends once they enter my hallowed house. Awesome! This makes sleepovers a sugar-free production. (Attached is a pic of him, looking deceptively harmless, and remarkably 'Booty-licious.')


But then even the most pinchable of pooches can derail that entourage of adoring cuties. Nothing is less sexy than a dog about to drop a deuce. Well, no – the person who then has to clean up the aforementioned deposit looks a hell of a lot less sexy than the dog itself. It's impossible to play it cool, bag in hand. I can't tell you how many times I have bribed a mutt, offering to pay it $5 to "hold it just a little bit longer!" No dice. Evidently, dogs are not monetarily driven, and therefore my cash advances fell flat. Meanwhile, the hotties have moved on, eyes diverted out of embarrassment for all implicated.

So... Anyone have a doe-eyed pup exclusively on a liquid diet that needs walking services near an epicenter of attractive, cosmopolitan urbanites?