Im at that point in my life where I definitely want to get married soon. Ive got my dogs as surrogates, but Im ready for kids.
Dogs, ye have had your day!
I have several dogs and several cats who aren't really mine. In fact, they think that I am theirs. I'd like to have some goats and chickens, but I travel around too much.
One does not imagine the presence of a dog in the Garden of Eden, for had there been, no doubt he would have given adequate protection to his mistress and saved her descendants from all subsequent trouble.
You can usually tell that a man is good if he has a dog who loves him.
The proportionality of what has happened to America because of unemployment and housing makes everything else look like a flea on a dog's ass.
When you feed the big dog, it does whatever you tell him to do.
Summer, with its dog days, its vacations, its distractions, is over. We have had our holidays, our rest, our recreation. The fall season, with its new opportunities for effort, enterprise and achievement, is upon us. Let us rip off our coats and get down to business. We may have allowed pessimism to grip us during the summer months. We may even have allowed laziness to enter our bones. Now it is up to us to throw off both lassitude and pessimism. The time has come for action, for aggressiveness.
If my dog wants to know why I didn't feed him this morning, he may want to rethink walking out of the room when I'm telling him a joke.
The owners of a dog which swallowed a diamond worth £12000 had to wait three days until it re-emerged. With a bit of planning it could have been a nice way to propose.
Men have been found to deny woman intellect; they have credited her with instinct, with intuition, with a capacity to correlate cause and effect much as a dog connects its collar with a walk.
A man bitten by a dog, whether the animal is mad or not, is apt to get mad himself.
A person who has never owned a dog has missed a wonderful part of life.
Never let me lose the marvel of your statue-like eyes, or the accent the solitary rose of your breath places on my cheek at night. I am afraid of being, on this shore, a branchless trunk, and what I most regret is having no flower, pulp, or clay for the worm of my despair. If you are my hidden treasure, if you are my cross, my dampened pain, if I am a dog, and you alone my master, never let me lose what I have gained, and adorn the branches of your river with leaves of my estranged Autumn.
