A little over a month ago, I adopted a three-month-old Papillon puppy from my workplace. I decided to name the little bugger Bodhi (BO-dee), short for Bodhisattva, the Buddhist deity of Zen, hoping it would rub off on him. A month later, I realized the precocious little pup could talk. Or it’s that damn LSD again…
And so I present, the touching story of a girl on her own in the big city with nobody but a dog to keep her company, Tuesdays with Bodhi…
Bodhi: Let me sit on your lap.
Chelsea: I can’t right now. I’m trying to type up an article and I’m on a deadline.
Bodhi: So why can’t I sit on your lap?
Chelsea: Because I said.
Bodhi: Let me sit on your lap or I’m going to continue to claw into your thigh.
Chelsea: Fine. Sit on my lap.
Bodhi: Thank you. Now I’m going to put my paws on your keyboard.
Chelsea: You can’t do that. I’m typing up a story.
Bodhi: I’ll add flavor to it. Your news stories always suck anyway.
Chelsea: This from an animal who eats his own shit?
Bodhi: If your poop looked like tootsie rolls, you’d eat it too.
Chelsea: Good point.
Bodhi: I always have good points. I’m a Papillon. We’re very smart.
Chelsea: You’re getting awful ballsy.
Bodhi: Please, have you seen me? I’m all balls.
Chelsea: Actually, isn’t it about time I call Dr. Reinholt and schedule your neutering?
Bodhi: Damn you.