This one was dug out of the archives and I used a dust-buster on it’s a… content. (Prompted by another dog story I read today.)
My secret it out. Something I’ve known for a very long time. Since birth as a matter of fact. I have accepted who I am, made easier with the loving support from my adopted family. But let’s face it, being born a French poodle is basically like falling out of the closet at birth.
There was no hope of becoming something butch like those Rottweiler or German shepherd types. The white fluff and my perky brown nose also didn’t do me any favours. Look at me? Cuteness personified, destined to become the greatest male bitch the world has ever seen.
I remember the day my family adopted me. The male patriarch of the family was acting like the Godfather himself, at the prospect of getting a pet. Fortunately two elated young humans were enthusiastically picking up my brethren, whom I’ve not seen since that fateful day. I told those idiots to keep calm and chive on, but…
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