What's next?

Woof.

You stare up at ... your owner?!? “What the fuck?” You say. Except, well, you don’t. You try and say it but all that comes out of your mouth is a high pitched whine as your owner tugs your leash attached to your collar -yes collar - a ridiculous crinoline thing, and pulls you down off your chair and onto the black and white tiled floor... black and white. You’re a dog. You don’t see colour. But oddly you know that your nails are painted pink and you have a matching pink bow in your fluffy fur on your head.

Please log in to view the image

The other miniature poodle eyes you with it’s black beady eyes. And you feel very uncomfortable under that gaze. Your head tilts and you see that the other dog is male. Hung like a canary but still male. You whimper and check yourself. It’s what you’d feared. You’re a bitch... a worried whine escapes your jaws as you back away. This is bad. The boy dogs tongue lolls and then you smell him. It’s like pure heaven. Suddenly your fear is gone, replaced by animal instinct as old as time.

“Rocky. No. Bad boy. Leave Fifi alone...”

“Oh Miss Remington. Let Rocky and Fifi have their fun...” the returning waitress suggests.

“It’s just not polite...” your owner says.