“I want to go outside.”

“You were just outside ten minutes ago.”

“I need to go again.”

“But we’re cuddling, bro.”

“Not any more.”

“Do you need to pee or just do a lap and stand forlornly at the door until I let you back in?”

“Won’t know till I’m out there, dude.”

“Alright, alright.”

(ten seconds later)

“Back already?”

“Sucks out there. Dude, check out this slobber rope.”

“Daww, you’re so proud of your tug toy, aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. Shut up and grab this thing. NO. No. Do not pet me. Grab the damn slobber rope.”

“We were just playing this like twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but we aren’t right now.” *muffled* “Gra id wit yeh mout lie dis. Gra id.”

“What about a walk instead.”

“Excuse me? What?”

“A walk.”

“Aw, hell yeah—NO. DO NOT PET ME. Come. Yes, this way. By the door. Now. Good, good. Put that thing on my necklace.”

“Hold on a second, I have to—”

“Necklace, now.”

“I need to put my shoes on, poo brain.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, take all the time you need. Mmhmm. Oh, yeah, make sure your paw mittens are nice and tight. Wait, stop moving your hands for a second, I need to lick ‘em.”

“Okay buddy, we’re leaving.”

“I’ll believe it when I—DOOR’S OPEN.”

“Ready for your walk?”

“YOU HEAR THAT NEIGHBORS?”

“Yeah, yeah, they hear you.”

“WE ARE ON A WALK. WE ARE OUT FOR A FREAKING STROLL.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“WE ARE MAKING THE ROUNDS. GET OUT HERE, FOLKS, BECAUSE I HAVE GOT SOME THINGS TO SAY. AND WHAT I’M SAYING IS THAT WE ARE ON A WALK.”

“Shhhh, Flynn, no need to shout.”

“WHAT?”

“Shhhh.”

“You have something for me to smell? Yeah, I’ll come closer. Oh, for the love of god—No. No petting, we’re walking.”

“Come on, I’m just trying to love on you!”

“Holy crap. Dude, this tree is COVERED in pee. Come here. When you smell it, make sure to put your nose on it like this. You really gotta huff this stuff.”

“Gross, Flynn.”

“Yep, that’s Winston. Winston was here like two hours ago. And…Bella? Yeah, Bella came through. Last night, seems like. Oh my god…no way…those guys are still feeding her Purina? Jeese, it’s 2018 folks…”

“Time to move on.”

“Okay—WAIT. Is that a pile of dirt, or…”

“No. FLYNN. NO.”

“Yep, it’s a poop. Well proportioned, too. Just delightfully pungent. Yes, yes, hints of beef and rice. Carrot, even? You were sitting on this one for a while, weren’t you Rex. Ooooohh. Yes. Yes you were.”

“Flynn, come.”

“One sec, peeing…”

“…”

“I PEED, PEOPLE.”

“Okay, buddy.”

“GONNA BE A BROWN PATCH IN THAT GRASS OVER THERE, SOON.”

“Mmhmm.”

“SMELL IT WHILE IT’S HOT.”

Will Montei

Will Montei (’13) graduated with a major in writing and a minor in philosophy. He currently lives in Seattle, taking full advantage of the abundant local coffee and surrounding mountain hikes. He is an avid daydreamer, an old soul, and a creative potty mouth.

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