GUV-UH-NA-TOR

Our pooch has a "dog father." (He also has a dog mother who lives out of state. They send each other postcards.) A few weeks ago the dog father bought him a toy -- a stuffed version of the GUV-UH-NATOR. On one side, Ahhnold is showing off his muscles wearing shorts and a muscle tank reading "XTERMINATOR." Tattoos reading "I'll be back" and "Hasta La Vista, Baby!" adorn random body parts. On the reverse side, Ahhnold of Cal-eee-forn-yuh fame is clad in a suit complemented by a naked woman tie. His badge reads "governator" and his watch says that it is "time to raise taxes." In between lies a squeeker and some white fuzz that would comprise the boy's entire diet if we let it.

So, right now the pooch is totally high on GUV-UH-NATOR FETCH. He's totally a jock at heart, and very, very adept at catching tennis balls, basket balls, and little stuffed celebrities. The cutest part? Before he lets us throw the GOVERNATOR, he thrashes from side to side like a great white shark gutting a whale. Then he places the slimy, drool ridden toy in my lap and looks at me with strung out on PCP eyes that say: "If you love me you will THROW THE FUCKING GUV-UH-NA-TOR NOW BIOTCH."