Puppy and Grizzly Poo

With me it started when my ex-boyfriend bought me puppy. I had graduated from University with an Honors English Degree. It was no surprise that that expensive piece of paper gave me no dramatic insight into which direction my life should take. So I did what many girls do..... moved in with the boyfriend. 

  He lived in the Rocky mountains. It seemed adventurous enough. Got me out of Saskatchewan (a mere one province over, but let us not be petty!) I was ready for my genuine adult life to start. Not in the dreamy way of some girls.... oh, when will he propose?.... when will my uterus become a warm mucousy den for a youngin'....... but more in the way of Adventure. I was ready for an introduction.

Instead we cooked pasta. It tasted good. I tried to fight the inertia and climbed mountains alone. That was wonderful, but I had done it before. And it still seemed too safe (except for that one time when I had to stick my finger in the Grizzly poo and found out it was still warm.. ). We started fighting. My sense of waiting for Adventure and never hearing him knock at my door was making me impossible to live with.  But I stayed. I didn't realize I was attempting to seduce adventure with subtle eye contact and bashful smiles, when what Adventure really digs is when you grab him by the hand and pull him into the bedroom. And besides the pasta tasted so good.

Then one day the boyfriend showed up with a little bundle of joy. A black lab cross with the sweetest eyes and the most endearing stumble run you ever did see. I showed it love (what kind of person can hate on a puppy?), I took it to the mountains. I jogged with the little stumble runner, but  to me it was a symbol of boring. A cute little reminder of approximately 12 years of commitment. Blarg. 

You make me happy.

Then one night I indulged in a few to many Rye and Gingers. (I was working on a new theory that Adventure was actively into courting drunk chicks). The boyfriend decided to go out and visit with a friend. I was pouting in bed in one of those ridiculous self indulgent funks that possess me from time to time. Then I heard the cute little yippy bark of the pup. Needed to go outside. I got up and did my own little stumble walk towards the front door. Then I saw the pile of cute little doggy poo. I stuck my finger in it. Cold. That means the boyfriend had actually stepped over the poo to leave and did not pick it up. 

I stood there for a while and then, with the cute little doggy poo still under my fingernail, I went to the bedroom and began packing my bags.

I made the decision. I was going to take Adventure out on a date.