I love dogs. I love how they bark. I love how they wag their tails. I love that they’re friendly. I love that they love attention. And, until I moved into my apartment almost a year ago, I loved just about every dog I met. Sadly, I now have to change that first statement above to “I love most dogs.” Yes, it’s true. There are some dogs that I actually hate. I will now list them off.

  • My downstairs neighbor is a dirty old man (that’s a long story; I’ll spare you the details), and he owns a poodle. While I at first sympathized with the creature (it’s not his fault he’s a poodle, after all), all such feeling vanished from the moment I was within ten feet of the thing. Why? Because the little bitch tried to attack me. It came flying out of the apartment, the door to which was propped open, yapping its ugly little head off and trying to bite me. Had the owner not shown up, I might have kicked the wretched thing. I’ve yet to kick it, but I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility.
  • Another neighbor in the complex has two giant dogs he walks around and calls “girls” all the time. The man is huge and always sports a long ponytail that rivals dreadlocks in terms of its cleanliness. He’s one of those people whose animals resemble himself. Other than the “girls” running up to me and nearly bowling me over, I’ve been fortunate enough not to see them regularly, as in the case of aforementioned poodle.
  • My newest next door neighbor, who is actually very nice, owns a Miniature Chihuahua. The dog, which is a mixture of light and dark brown, is cute enough to look at. But, while he’s presumably full-bred, I think he has some Cocker Spaniel in him. This is because when he sees me, he comes running out to great me, all excited like, and starts peeing all over the balcony. It’s not out of fear, it’s out of excitement, and it’s fucking annoying. And hey, remember this story? That’s why Robert decided the crazy thing needed a new moniker: Pisspot. Fitting, methinks.