At this point I’m probably going to greet my Dave with a gloved hand and a nice pat on the head. I don’t know what he’s gotten into, but he’s a bit like an errant puppy. One minute he’s being cute and stupid, and the next he’s gone and rolled in thirteen piles of very unique-smelling dog shit, each from a varied breed of Labrador including hybrids.
far be it from me to turn the tables on you but i feel like theres probably something to be gleaned from that in a brief but thrilling and intense round of psychotherapy
in any case ill have to observe your dog breeder ectosibling from afar it weirds me out a little too much to actually attempt conversation











