Is it my fault that a tiny, malnourished puppy could EASILY be mistaken for either a boy or a girl?
Is it my fault that in my former life I mistook my unspayed female cat for a neutered male one, had already named it Milo, and decided to keep the name?
Is it my fault that I've never owned a dog before?
Is it my fault that I don't walk around looking between the legs of dogs to compare sex organs?
Is it my fault that I mistook Simon's lady parts for a very immature male part?
THE ANSWER TO ALL QUESTIONS IS NO!
So please don't judge me when I tell you that my darling little boy Simon is actually a girl, and it only took me 4 months to figure it out.
I've already done the female-animal-masculine-name thing, and I'm not doing it again! Henceforth the puppy will be named Ginger in honor of her gorgeous red locks and my penchant for those blessed with red atop their head.
In my defense I would like to remind all of my readers that through my intelligence, hard work and natural intuition I cured this dog of not one, but TWO deadly illnesses, and nursed it back to health when it was on the brink of starvation.
I really wouldn't blame you if you judged me for this one; I already have.
Its time I revealed a little about an intimate relationship I've recently become involved in. His name is Herald, and we've been involved for about a month now. I THINK we met sometime during my training and travels. He is cuddly little worm that has somehow ended up nesting lovingly inside my intestines. At first I barely noticed him, kept him tame with regular administrations of Pepto Bismol; however, now he has begun to really let me know when he's around.
Owning/possessing/being possessed by a worm comes with its own set of trials and challenges. For instance, its very important to be near a "facility" about 30 minutes to an hour after food consumption. Food seem to make Herald overly excited,or angry, I'm still not sure which; foods such as ALL dairy, caffeine, meats, vegetables, starches, fruits, and oils. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what he enjoys the most, he seems to treat all of them as equal opportunity fodder. Herald also seems to be nocturnal, which means lots and lots of late night trips to the outhouse. This past weekend he and I made that trip 17 times in one night. Needless to say, what started out as a harmless flirtation with each other has now gotten serious, too serious for me. So I'm afraid its time for us to part ways.
RIP Harald. I'm afraid I won't miss you all that much, but I promise to think of you every time I pass the outhouse.