Well hello there, gorgeous. Let me just start this digital interaction by saying that you are beautiful. I’m completely spellbound by your ears; those are the ears of a canine who knows how to listen to a simple man’s complaints. And you have the most beautiful brown eyes. Soulful and warm, those eyes make me think I could be a better man.

Your mom is nice looking too or whatever. 

I just have so many questions. Namely, what’s your name and how can I get you in my life? Your owner gave me her name and her interests, but didn’t say anything about your personality! It’s a damn crime!

I’ve been searching for someone like you for years. Every time I swipe across one of these profiles, I see a Woman frolicking with a dog and I see my future: long days spent playing catch in the park, picking out bandanas at the pet store, and marathon couch snuggle sessions. Then I swipe right and the reality never lives up to the fantasy.

Instead, it’s all a drag: asking a woman where she wants to eat and debating where to go for dinner, hunting for apartments that cater to her taste and your needs, and cutting my night short because she won’t leave her dog alone in the house for too long and all the “top-tier” dog sitters on Rover are booked. If I wanted that kind of responsibility, I would get married. 

This is less of a mortgage and more of a rental situation. We’ll be together for the first blush of love: your puppyhood and still-fun teen years, before your pet insurance kicks in and I have to see your joints deteriorate. The moment your hip dysplasia presents and your mom gets buried in vet bills, I’ll have moved on to the next dynamic duo. But I don’t need to tell you; you understand this dog-eat-dog world.

I’m a man with reasonable desires. Is it really so hard to find a dog – sorry, a woman, I’m definitely looking for a woman – who understands that I won’t accept the full responsibility of dog fatherhood? I’m here to kiss your pretty puppy face and give morning cuddles. I have no interest in fornicating in the bathroom because your mom refuses to get railed in the bed she shares with you. You get that – you hump your toy wherever you want and don’t let anyone relegate you to your crate. You wouldn’t want your errant stepfather to feel such shame.

Your mom is probably thinking, “Why doesn’t he just go to the pound and pick up a pup of my own?” Well, we both know I’m smarter than that, and those shelters don’t guarantee me a dog walker with a tight ass. Your mom, though? If she keeps walking you at this rate, I could bounce a quarter off her behind. 

So, cutie, what do you say? Ready to make me your daddy? Because I’m ready to take you home to meet my parents!

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