Saturday, July 18, 2009

My Dog, My Worshiper

My dog lays at my feet. When I move, she follows me and lays at my feet. Everywhere I go, even to the bathroom, she follows me and lays at my feet. In bed, she lays at my feet. If she's lucky, I even let her lick my toes. This is her idea of heaven.

She adores and worships me. She calls me Woof, because she can't pronounce my name. I control every aspect of her life; she cannot even wander freely or have sex unless I allow it. I provide her with everything she needs; her food and water, a warm and safe home, unconditional love. I existed before she was born, and I will exist after she dies.


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