"We got him as a Christmas gift for our kids nine years ago. Before that, our kids were like DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG! GIVE US A DOG! And I was like, "I got two jobs and three kids, and now you want me to add a dog to this pile of shit on my desk? No. No way. Let's just get another fish and then watch it die.""
"I never had a dog when I was growing up, so I know fuck all about dog care. This dog, Carter, he can tell. He gets up on our bed and his eyes turn psycho on me when I approach. He's like, This is my bed. Deal with it, cuck. Then, when I try to calm him down, he bites me on the leg. Way up on my leg. Almost in my jujyfruits. Not cool. Not cool at all, new dog."
Nine years ago the narrator brought home a rescued dog, Carter, after persistent pleading from the children. The narrator lacked experience with dogs and resisted adding a pet to an already busy household. Carter displays dominant, aggressive behaviors, occupying the bed, staring with 'psycho' eyes, and biting the narrator's leg high up. The narrator considered returning the dog and prioritized personal safety over keeping the pet. The spouse prioritizes the children's attachment and proposes hiring an expensive trainer. The narrator attempts to avoid the cost and frames the spouse's questions as orders rather than suggestions.
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