Real men have big dogs

A man is judged by the size of his dog. Everybody denies it, but size matters. A small dog is nothing but a disobedient, stinky nuisance.

So when my roommate asked if we could get a dog next fall -- a small one, to my dismay -- I doggedly refused. First, she wanted a Chihuahua. "No quiero una Chihuahua," I told her -- not even if it runs for the border and fetches a seven-layer burrito. Then she wanted a wiener dog. Yeah, right, because no one would make fun of me for having a wiener dog.

Any dog weighing less than 50 pounds invalidates the purpose of having a dog in the first place. They won't fetch newspapers, hunt ducks, or scare away burglars. In fact, just give me a seven-layer burrito and I will scare away more burglars than any droopy-eared basset hound.

Small dogs do nothing but yap, poop, yap some more and poop again. But they only take care of their business on the living room carpet. I would have better luck teaching calculus to a third-grader than house-training some squashed-faced little ankle-biter.

I cannot figure out why anyone would even want some little yapping mutt. They require a lot of attention and never seem to be happy. I thought that was why people had babies. And all those little dogs can do is trip people. I encourage people to save their money and just buy some rope.

Sometimes it is not the dog that is the problem, but rather the owner. So many of them brag about how cute their little dogs are and then prance around like their dog's poop comes out smelling like roses. To those people, I explain that a rat would make a better pet because not only are they cuter, but they are smarter and more fun to play with too.

My old neighbors used to own two beagles. Not only were they the most obnoxious dogs ever, but their owners would walk them through our yard, leaving piles of poop in their wake. My mom asked them on many occasions to keep their dogs out of our yard until one day she finally snapped and chucked the poop all over our neighbor's driveway. The dogs never came our way again.

I am the proud owner of a purebred Labrador -- a real man's dog. At 105 in dog years, "Rellie" is on her last hip, but she has been faithful to me over the years. She has never pooped on my living room carpet -- only in my bedroom. However, it was always in good fun. She also knows many tricks, such as wagging her tail, not sitting on my command and breathing liver-breath in my face. She is great with kids and if you scratch her behind the ears, she will love you forever.

Rellie is loyal, fun, and kind, but most importantly, she is big -- as all dogs should be.