Day Twenty-Nine: Times Are Ruff

One of the most unfair things in my life is that I’m allergic to dogs.  I’m not talking like cutesy ‘I’ll just have a little sneeze’ allergic, I’m talking ‘I’ll just have a blotchy red rash all over my face and neck, sneeze continually and breath in short raspy bursts’ allergic.  This means that whenever I’m in the vicinity of a dog, piriton is my main food source, because I find that by taking it, people will still be seen with me and not pretend not to know the rashy-wheezy-freak.  The worst is when I’m not prepared.  Like when I’m just walking along, minding my own business, and then a dog walker will come round the corner with their little canine friend and it’ll look at me, and I’ll look at it, and it’s like we’re drawn together.  If a really friendly-looking, fluffy dog scurried up to a stronger person than me, through self control they would remember that by touching it, they sacrifice their good health until the next time they have a shower.  But not I.  It’s like I just have to stroke the dog.  I imagine it’s a similar predicament to Eve in the Garden of Eden; you know that it’s wrong to eat the fruit from the tree of knowledge, but it’s just such a nice, fluffy, cute fruit and it’s wagging its tail a lot and it looks happier to see you than your friends ever have. Darn fruit.

I think it’s got better as I’ve got older, but bark when I was little I had some bad reactions.  I would seriously look terrierble, my face would get all pugly and red, my throat would get tight so my voice was all husky.  It was really pupthetic. I’ll beaglead if it goes away altogether, because even if it leads to eternal dalmatian  I’m getting a dog.   I’ll consider myself a real wiener in life when I go to the rescue centre and retriever dog to take home.  Even if I have to slightly roverdose on piriton for a few weeks.  I can’t decide if I want one of those little ones, so I can boxer up and pop her in my bag, or like a giant one I’ll have to match with the décor given that it’s so enormous.  I had a friend I visited once whose dog poodle over the carpet, but mine won’t be like that.  It’ll be clean, and will daschund leap around with my pet sheep.  I hope this dream becomes a pawsibility, otherwise I think I’ll end up pretty melancollie.

Related joke, another one which is in my top ten:

I went to a zoo the other day, but it only had one dog.

It was a shitzu.



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