Somebody get this man a puppy!

This is hard for me to say. It’s very unlike me to write anything about myself that doesn’t put me in a good light, but I think I’ve reached my breaking point. Here’s the issue: Every weekday, between the hours of 6PM and 9PM… I get lonely. And I don’t mean lonely, like maybe I should call up one of my college buddies and catch up lonely, either. I’m talking about the debilitating kind of loneliness, where neither TV sitcoms nor social networking can make up for it. I’m talking about the type of loneliness that old people have to deal with.

I know, 6PM to 9PM isn’t really something that I should be so upset about – it’s only 3 hours of not having the wifey home. In case you’re a new visitor to the blog, perhaps you don’t realize this, but I need constant attention. For God’s sake, I wanted to be the man of honor at my sister’s wedding – that aught to tell you something.

The clear solution here is for me to have a puppy to play with. I figure that if geriatrics can add years to their lives by having a pet, a puppy can certainly help me with these few gloomy hours of my day.

And don’t make me out to be this needy dude that needs a puppy to cope. While it may be true – I have to say that any puppy that gets to play with me is a lucky puppy indeed. I’m a huge dog guy, and I really think that on many levels, the puppy and I are one and the same. We both hate cats, we both like playing outside, and we’re both wicked cute. Oh, we may both have fleas too, but that’s a blog for another day.

Somebody get this man a puppy!



- Jack Asher