Free Dog Training The American Male by L. A. Knight Page B

buy Nancy a white foofie dog. She said it would
stabilize our home.”
    “Actually, a dog could work.
Women need someone to hug and blab all their problems to. Gay men and dogs are
great for that. There’s a pet store on Hillsboro Boulevard not far from you.
Get her the dog and by tonight she’ll be licking your balls.”
    * * * *
*
     
    Jacob found Wags and Purr located
in a strip mall next to a kosher Chinese restaurant. A litter of kittens
occupied the front window pen, enticing passing shoppers to ooh and ahh .
Inside, lined up in rows were baby cribs, each padded cell holding a different
breed of puppy.
    Jacob entered the store, his
presence attracting the attention of a flamboyant gay man in his early forties,
dressed in a sky-blue lab coat and white crocs. “Welcome to Wags and Purr .
My name is Cyril and I’ll be your adoption counselor. And you are?”
    “Jacob.”
    “Well, Mister Jacob, have I got
fabulous news for you. We’ve got kitties for sale, only twenty dollars each.
That comes with a litter box and two jingle toys.”
    “Actually, Cyril, I’m shopping
for a puppy.”
    “Oh, come on, kittens are fun
too. Take home two and I’ll toss in a bag of catnip. Slip some in your pants
pocket and your new feline friends will work you like a pro.” Cyril meowed ,
pawing his own groin.
    Jacob took a step back. “That’s . . . really
tempting. But I’m looking for a Bichon. For my girlfriend .”
    “Stupid cats. I can’t even give
the damn things away. Okay, Mister Jacob, wash your hands with some
anti-bacterial gel and follow me.”
    Cyril waited for him to cleanse
before leading him past two cribs of puppies to the last padded container in
the row. Inside the crib, standing on its hind legs was an eight-inch-long whimpering
white fur-ball of joy.
    The salesman scooped up the adorable
nine-week-old Bichon in both hands and cradled it to his face, allowing the
puppy to lick his open mouth. “He’s so cute, isn’t hims?”
    Jacob glanced at the price tag.
“Sixteen hundred bucks? For a dog?”
    “That’s right, daddy. Plus you’ll
need a bowl and a puppy leash, and don’t forget the food. Now he’s had his
vaccination—”
    “He?”
    “Yes, handsome. See, some puppies
have pee-pees and some don’t. This one does so we call it a he.”
    “What about protection?”
    “I usually wear a rubber.”
    “I meant the dog. Can it be
trained to protect my girlfriend?”
    “Why? Is she in danger?”
    “You know what I mean.”
    “Daddy, this is a Bichon not a
Rottweiler. It barks at every noise and pees on the carpet, but it’ll come when
you call it—geezus, it sounds just like my boyfriend, Felipe. Trust me, your
girlfriend will love him—women love the breed. This little brute is the last
one we have left from a litter of six and they just came in on Tuesday. Let me
guess . . . this is going to be a surprise.”
    “I’ll say. She’s expecting
Advil.”
    “Okay, I have no idea what that
means. Tell you what—why don’t you pick out a pretty butch collar and a doggy
bowl, then we’ll fill out the paperwork and you can take our precious bundle of
love home in a special Wags and Purr puppy box.”

 
     
     

     
    SAM
     
    It was nearly five
in the afternoon by the time Jacob returned home. Shutting off the engine, he
calmed his new best-friend, grabbed the cardboard box off the passenger seat, and
exited the van.
    Nancy was lying on the sofa. Doubled
up with cramps, she had been calling her boyfriend for the last five hours, but
his cell phone had been going straight to his voice mail.
     Hearing Jacob key-in, she muted
the television, ready to wage war. “You left five hours ago, where the hell . . .”
She sniffed the air, catching a disturbing scent coming from the front of Jacob’s
pants. “Oh my God. You went to a nudie bar!”
    “Nudie bar? I didn’t go to a—”
    Her anger seething, she stood,
poking her index finger against his chest. “Do you actually believe a