My older dog – Dylan – wrote what looks like a personal ad in his journal recently (I found the journal hidden under a blanket in his kennel). I know I shouldn’t share Dylan’s journal writing, but he’s not a friend of mine on social media so I don’t think he’ll discover this post:
“Hi, my name is Bob Dylan The Boy Dog Hoffmeister, and I’m looking for a quiet companion in life – someone who is nothing like my brother Hank Williams Junior.
I enjoy exploring the Sisters Boulders or walking in shallow water, chewing on elk bones, stealing food from humans, and rolling in dead things.
I am a very open and honest dog. I don’t like clowns, balloons, lightning, fireworks, or windstorms that make the doors slam. I don’t like it when people argue or cry, or talk too loudly at each other even if they’re smiling.
To be clear: I am not interested in having sex with anyone. Please don’t lick my penis or smell my anus. If you do either of those things, I’ll get angry and growl, even if I don’t mean to, and even if we were getting along pretty well before you decided to do that.
I do enjoy sniffing faces and would happily lick at the air in the direction of your breath. I would also love to lay in the sun with you, howl at an ambulance together, or walk somewhere without touching each other. Maybe – once we get wherever we’re going – we can take off our leashes and run free in the fields, hopping like kangaroos or hunting bugs in the grass.
My favorite places are the high desert in Central Oregon or plush wingback chairs in a warm living room.
Please meet me in a park or call my parents to set up a play-date.”