The other day I was walking my dog because I am a responsible dog owner. (I am a responsible dog owner, I am a responsible dog owner, I am a responsible dog owner <— what I chant to myself when I would rather sit on the couch and read some person’s blog about what they wear every day.) (I do that sometimes.) (Don’t judge.)

Anyway. I was walking the dog and he was panting like we were climbing Mt. Everest because he is a pug and his anatomy is a mess. I may have been panting too, but we’re just going to leave that alone for now.

I looked up to see an older couple with an adorable dog coming toward us. So, of course, I’m already having a panic attack because probably they will look at us and then eye contact will occur and then words and talking and stuff.

So I stared at the asphalt as I do. But then, because I was thinking so hard about not talking to them, I looked up and initiated an awkward social interaction. Kind of like that thing where you’re on the edge of a cliff and you have the sudden urge to jump. Except you’re not supposed to actually jump. 

“Your dog is adorable,” I said. Which was fine. Very normal. Well done. “He looks like, uh, that dog from the cartoons.”

“Oh? Which one of the thousands of cartoon dogs would that be?” The woman did not say. But thought it, obviously.

“You know, the, uh, sheep dog.” I barreled on, like a train headed into a brick wall at full speed. (In retrospect, the dog looked nothing like a sheep dog. But I couldn’t stop.)

And because I was now committed to this theme and wanted to really hammer out all the details, I said “People always point at my dog and say ‘hey, it’s the dog from Men in Black.'”

<forced laughter>

“What’s his name?” The woman said.

“Oh, I don’t remember.”

<confused/concerned stares>

“Oh, you mean my dog’s name? Haha, I thought we were…talking about the dog from…Men in Black…his name is Piper.” 

<awkwardness>

“But I think the dog in the movie was called Frank.” I said, to nobody who cared.

And then that was it. We turned our separate ways and walked hurriedly out of each other’s lives.

It hurts to recall this memory, but honesty in blogging is important and I am a Woman of Principle.