You know how I joke around about how Little Gay Riley Pants might be, well, gay?
There’s his loves for sweaters, his penchant for pretty bandanas, the way he likes to hold hands when I get home from work, and even the he only humps other male dogs, so I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that it could be true. And quite honestly, I’ve always told him I could love him regardless of the sex of dogs he chooses to mount.
And I also want to go to the zoo in Central Park and see Roy and Silo as the ignore all of the female penguins.
I’m probably going to take my gay dog outside now. He’ll squat when he pees and then we’ll come upstairs and he’ll get comfortable on
his our 300-thread count sheets before we go to sleep watching Golden Girls. What? Straight dogs do that, too!