An Italian restaurant in Glasgow, a few weeks ago. I’m there with my wife to meet friends I haven’t seen for months, and their friends who I haven’t seen for a few years. One of the latter group asks me about my dog, Megan.
Me: She’s a monster. She eats shoes, digs up the lawn, chews the wall…
Girl: Yeah, but they grow out of it. Eventually.
Me: I hope so.
Girl: My one’s the same. I have to keep an eye on her all the time or she’s trashing the place. You can’t leave her alone for even a second.
Me: It’s a pain, isn’t it? But they’re so cute that they can get away with it.
Girl: Oh, absolutely. I’ll be glad when she calms down a bit though.
Me: So what breed is she?
Long silence.
Girl: She’s my daughter.
6 replies on “Why I don’t get invited to many parties”
Hey, she started the conversation. How is it your fault?
And her daughter chews the wall?
To be fair, there was more to her story than I’ve posted. So for example I did wonder how a dog would be able to switch off the TV, but hey! I was pissed!
We once had a cat who taped over a video I really wanted to watch.
That’s why some people are dog people. Cats are too inconsiderate.
It’s the fault of the person for saying “My one’s the same.”, leading you to think that their daughter was their dog. Hahahha… :)
I agree entirely :)