I Became The Dog In An All Female Household 【A-Z COMPLETE】

When a strange noise came from the alley at 2 AM, I grabbed a flashlight and went outside. I am the pseudo-man of the house. I check the locks. I kill the spiders (via relocation, because they won’t let me kill them). But I also know that if I left for a week, they’d survive just fine. They’d probably reorganize the pantry and forget to tell me. I am the dog: loyal, useful, but ultimately not running the pack.

In a house of women, words are abundant. Too abundant. Debates about which Real Housewife is the most toxic can last three hours. I have learned that a single, well-timed sigh from the couch speaks volumes. It says, “I am here. I support you. Please stop yelling about Lisa Rinna.” i became the dog in an all female household

Whenever someone comes home, I hear the key in the lock and I launch off the couch. Not because I’m lonely, but because it is my sacred duty to welcome them. “How was work?” I ask. “Traffic sucked,” they reply, already walking past me. I follow them to the kitchen anyway. I am never the one being welcomed. I am the welcome mat with legs. When a strange noise came from the alley

Not literally. But they will decide it’s time for fresh air, grab my arm, and say, “We’re going to the farmer’s market. You’re carrying the bags.” I go. I do not resist. I trot alongside them, slightly behind, holding reusable totes like a Labrador carrying a duck. I kill the spiders (via relocation, because they

And here’s the strange part—I love it.