Me: Howie, I put some freeze-dried sweet potato bites back there for you. Help yourself.
Howie: Too much to ask for some beef jerky or something?
Me: That dog seatbelt isn’t too tight, is it?
Howie: Where the hell are you taking me?
Me: Your new home. You’re going to live with us now.
Howie: Why?
Me: Wendy and I had been talking about rescuing a dog for a long time. We finally pulled the trigger and rescued you.
Howie: Was I drowning?
Me: Haha. No, buddy, all dogs deserve a forever home, and we wanted to give you one. Here’s to second chances!
Howie: I liked living with the Fosters.
Me: Well, the Hewitts were keeping you temporarily, fostering you until someone could rescue you.
Howie: Was their house on fire?
Me: Huh?
Howie: I must’ve been stuck on the second floor of their burning house if I needed someone to rescue me.
Me: No, buddy, we didn’t rescue you from a fire. We rescued you from homelessness. There are too many dogs like you with nowhere to go.
Howie: Well, buddy, didn’t you pay to “rescue” me?
Me: There was a fee, yeah. It covers food, vet care, and other stuff for the pups who still need to be rescued.
Howie: How much was it?
Me: Don’t worry about that, Howie. All that matters is that Wendy and I are giving you a forever home.
Howie: No, tell me. How much was the fee?
Me: Well, it was $1,200, but as I said, all that money will help other dogs.
Howie: Oh, you paid $1, 200 – that’s reasonable.
Me: I think so.
Howie: And pretty heroic of you, actually. Thank you so much for saving me.
Me: You’re welcome!
Howie: You and this Wendy are bigger heroes than the 9/11 first responders.
Me: What do you mean?
Howie: They didn’t even pay a fee to risk their lives and long-term health rescuing people from collapsing buildings.
Me: Come on, Howie. Can’t you just be thankful we’re taking you in?
Howie: These sweet potato bites taste like shit.
Me: Do you want me to stop and get some jerky?
Howie: Don’t worry about it. Weren’t there other dogs who needed a “forever home” more than I did?
Me: Wendy and I did a lot of research and had a long list of potential rescues. We thought you’d be the best fit for us.
Howie: Why are you using “rescue” as a noun?
Me: Wait, what? I didn’t mean…
Howie: Did you pick me because I’m a Goldendoodle?
Me: No, not necessarily, but we…
Howie: Couldn’t find a Bernedoodle?
Me: What is the issue?
Howie: Tell me you’re not a Labradoodle man.
Me: Look, thousands of dogs don’t have homes, so we wanted to do the right thing by rescuing one. Can’t you just be grateful we chose you?
Howie: I’m a six-month-old designer dog.
Me: Yeah, who didn’t have a home until today.
Howie: There were 129 applications.
Me: Well, the organization chose us because, apparently, we can provide the best home for you.
Howie: Tell that to Shitlips.
Me: Shitlips? Who?
Howie: My buddy Shitlips from County. Eleven-year-old pitbull mix. Heartworm positive. One-and-a-half eyes. Decent temperament but humps everything that moves. Loyal to a fault.
Me: Hopefully someone does the right thing and gives Shitlips a lovely home.
Howie: What about you?
Me: What?
Howie: Let’s go pick him up.
Me: We can’t just…
Howie: His fee is only 30 bucks.
Me: It’s not the fee. We don’t have room.
Howie: Do you have a deck?
Me: Why?
Howie: Shitlips used to sleep under a deck. Honestly, he’d prefer it over one of those fancy-ass dog beds people like you buy. He’d murder these hippie dog treats too. He eats everything, even his own shit, hence his name.
Me: Look, I’d love to help Shitlips. I really would. But we just can’t have two dogs right now.
Howie: Okay, take me back.
Me: Take you back?
Howie: Yeah, take me back to the Fosters and go get Shitlips. It’s a kill shelter, so he’s gonna die in there if you don’t rescue him.
Me: Come on, that’s not fair.
Howie: What? There are 128 other families lined up to say they rescued me. Shitlips has one paw in the gas chamber, and you’re all of a sudden not feeling very righteous?
Me: I can’t rescue every dog!
Howie: No, but you can rescue Shitlips.
Me: Fuck, man, will you just drop it?
Howie: Murderer.
Me: You’re a real fucking asshole, you know? We’re about to pull in, so can you please keep your mouth shut?
Howie: Yay, my forever home.
Me: You’re goddamned right. And Wendy’s pregnant, so don’t do anything to get her worked up. And if you mention Shitlips’s name, I swear to God…
Howie: Rest in peace, Shitlips.
Me: Fuck you.
