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Since the beginning of recorded history, bestiality has been considered by many cultures to be a perfectly viable low cost alternative to male, female sexual pursuits. Legal in many places, it is both cleaner, hygienically and less expensive than the purchase of prostitutes, gigolos or male hustlers.
Safer too, because the chances of succumbing to the ravages of an infectious disease are minimized greatly.
Like I said pal, what you do in the wee hours o' the morn. Or with whom OR WHAT you do it, is of course, up to you long as you ain't chasing after me with a mouthful of dog hair and a world class hardon. But if you'd like some help, it's out there. Simply hold yer head up proudly and in a calm clear voice so that all may hear you say,"hi, my name is Capt Pike and I'm a......
E-dog
Alright alright, enough already! You semi-able-bodied-people-with-fingers, sheesh... you're worse than regular people. I guess you just haven't got the imagination necessary to consider the plight of us folks who just cannot grab a hold of something like a piece of hair! It's a small thing but, just like how you remember the blessed sweetness of the water once the well's run dry... Oh yeah, that's right, YOU CAN'T REMEMBER!
DISCLAIMER: I haven't found it necessary to enter into an unnatural relationship with my dog!!
This stuff some you guys think of... you ought to be ashamed!
... And it's kind of funny story about that dog. He's not technically a therapy dog but his life began in the hospital with me after my injury. As soon as we figured out a way for me to communicate while being on a respirator, my girlfriend, (Little Miss Wonderful) lived in the hospital room with me and asked me, "can we get a dog?".
I figured, there's no way in the world they are going to let a dog live in here with us in a hospital room, right? I mean, they just won't. So I indicated to her, "sure, we can get a dog, just make sure it's okay with the nursing staff...". I figured, I'd be the good guy here -- let them tell her "no".
Well, you know what they said, and the next thing you know, she comes in with this little ball of fur. She paid for a Pomeranian. As a matter of fact, for another hundred dollars, she could have supposedly gotten pedigree papers.
Thank God, some sheltie got in there somehow and we have a mixed breed. He's not a yapper, which I could've been okay with. He grew up in the institution. "Went" on the floor one time. Never had to speak to him again. He thinks he's a human. One day we sat him down with us for dinner. Any dog I've ever known would have gobbled up the steak tips after knocking the whole plate on the floor if given an opportunity like this:
The idea of sitting with humans and eating... he was flummoxed! He's a very cat-like dog, if that makes any sense. He would not eat at the table with us. Instead, he would carry his food into his favored siblings room (my youngest stepdaughter), and, if we'd leave him alone, quietly eat.
The bubblegum idea and TOFFEE! That's a great idea! And it will work. Thank you.