‘A few more throws, and my betrayal has been forgiven.’: The howlarious tale of the dog pawrent who cheated on his canine child by playing with other dogs and his short and sweet road to redemption

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    I left early for work this morning. I had to leave Barrett (my BIG red mix- breed) at home by
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    himself for a looooong day. The people I was interviewing had several
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    dogs at their house. A couple of really cool ones too. I played with the dogs a little as I was
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    getting to know the family before the interview. I patted them on their heads. If they brought a toy,
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    I threw it. No biggie. Hours later, I get home from work. Even later than usual.
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    (Went out bowling with friends after work). Barrett hears me and comes clomping across the
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    living room, the swish of his tail audible, even in the dark. "Oh man, I'm so happy to
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    see you Travis! This is, like, the best time ever! What are we going to do together? Are we going to
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    go outside now? Maybe you could feed me first before we go out? Oh man, it's ok either way, I'm just
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    so happy you're here!" I put down my bag and reached to pet him, but before my
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    Cheezburger Image 10582664448
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    hand could reach his head, Barrett froze. He stopped cold, halfway through a tail
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    wag. I held perfectly still as he creeped in, sniffing me up one pants leg. Slowly. Deliberately.
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    Then down the other, sniffing even more intensely. Then he took a step back, paused, and
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    looked up at me with an expression I've seen just once before. "You cheated on me, Travis.
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    I know." He lowered his head and walked out of the room. Around the corner, I
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    heard him lay down. He looked as utterly heartbroken as anyone could ever be. It's the
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    saddest he's ever acted. "D n, dude..." So I slide a bowl of food
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    into his spot, and he comes meandering in, and eats unenthusiastic ally. As soon as
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    he's done, I take him out back and after he does his thing, I pull his ball out of my pocket. (A
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    knobby rubber one. His favorite!) His ears perk up. I throw it, he brings it back. I throw it again. He
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    brings it back. He always brings it back... We're a team! He's my big dog! He gets
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    the ball, never pps in the house, and has the courage to walk up to all the pretty girls at the
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    dog park so I can attempt a conversation. I feed him, pat him on the head at the appropriate times, and let
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    him sleep in the bed on really cold nights. A few more throws, and my betrayal
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    has been forgiven. We come back inside and sit down. "You my big dog, big
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    guy?" He walks over and lays his head in my lap. I scratch
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    him behind the ears. "Yeah. You're my big dog..."

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