In fourth grade, I started a dog walking business with the smelly girl from school. Business shut down after our first dog. Frankie - a sloppy, unkept french poodle, slipped out of his collar across Harding Avenue and got struck by a white pick up truck. The dog lived, but his pelvis was shattered. I was told he would never have children again.
We told the owner the walk "was on us".
I like to look at dogs, especially koala looking, shaved pomeranians.
I don't want a dog ever again. Dogs are a major commitment I am not willing to make. Besides, they shit on the floor.
