Miracle Cure for the Blues ... PUPPY!

I had a shitty day at work yesterday, so Wistar took me dog-sitting to cheer me up. Her little sister just got a bernese mountain dog, who needs to be walked every three hours or so. This hearty Swiss breed is used to herd cattle and pull carts. Also, as puppies they are so adorable they make you want to puke.


Actual dog, not a toy!

So we went trolling for single dog-owners at the local park. Nothing breaks the ice with potential suitors like a clumsy puppy attack. Picture the scenario...

Eligible Young Man: Here I am, walking my puppy. Oh wait, the little fellow seems to be rough-housing with a scrappy burnese mountain dog!
Me: Hey, Wistar's sister's dog, come back here - oh, hello.
EYM: Hello, yourself. Is that yours?
Me: For the next hour or so, anyway.
EYM: It makes sense that such an enchanting creature would have an equally enchanting owner. Perhaps we could meet again for a puppy play-date?
Me: *sotto voce* Excellent, my evil plan has come to fruition. Bwaahahahahahahahah!
EYM: Um, I beg your pardon?
Me: Nothing. How's next Thursday sound?