Fatty!

It seems I find myself biting my tongue...a lot.  I have this awkward way of saying the wrong thing in a conversation, even when I don't mean anything by it or when it's supposed to be a compliment.

I grew up verbally abusing dogs.  Not in the cruel sense of the term; rather, in the "I love you so much" way.  When you love your dog, you say things like, "Hey, fatty!"  "Hi stupid."  "Come here, Bozo.  You dummy.  Get over here!  She can't come over because she's too fat to walk!"

This may seem like senseless talk to you, but I grew up in a house where my father called my childhood dog a "sausage on toothpicks" pretty much daily.  

So, when I talk about the weight of your dog, it's because I think it's cute.

Case in point: 

At the car-rider line in school, a sweet old lab (reminiscent of my childhood dog, Brianna) was in the back seat.  I pet him kindly, a student I teach and her mom were beaming.

I turn around and say to my friend:  "I love fat, old dogs."

My friend's face was a look of shock as the window was still down, and she didn't reply.  Oops.

He was so cute, though!