askerian | (no subject)

my dog is dead. he was eleven. it isn't so old. his name was Lurax and we always thought it sounded horrible. a friend said it sounded like a mix between lubricant and durex (which is a brand of condoms.) but we got him too old to change his name. he was ten months old and scared of everything and barely half of the weight he weighs today. he was a skeleton with a fur coat. i'll always despise his previous owners for treating him like a toy to be put away when they weren't playing with it, and not a puppy.

he was silly and cowardly and he always growled at strangers. he was a kangaroo-greyhound-rabbit dog who couldn't sit still ten minutes. ukeiest dog who ever ukeed. even his girlfriend topped him. (but then, stacy is the butchiest bitch who ever semeed, so they fit well together. i wish i had let him top her the other day when she was in heat, but hah, he didn't dare even when she bumped into him all come-hiter like.) dad's friend had a gay dog and it always hit on Lurax, and he was all ACK BACK OFF NO WAY.

he always slept in the corridor and always got up all frightened when i stepped over him, instead of staying put, and so i always stepped on him by trying not to. (just because i didn't see him once and landed flat on my boobs. in the dark.) and he laid down behind our chairs at dinner and got in our legs when we walked back and forth and then he was surprised when we bumped into him.

and he never ever complained about anything -- he'd growl when he heard people outside, but he wouldn't whine when he got stepped on, and he didn't tell us that he was in pain at all, not even when it was too late.

miss you, moron.