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Not even a Mexican Hairless.
My wife goes to work, my kid goes to school or work, and I’m left with 3 dogs under 2 years old.
The cattle dog is bred to have endless energy and I’m left watching over them all day long.
I can’t let them in back because they will kill the chickens.
I can’t let them in the wayback because the horses will kill them.
My wife and kid buy them toys they instantly destroy and leave cotton balls all over the yard.
The two males are homos.
The wife and daughter have never held up to their pledge to pick up the poop.
They tear their doggy bed apart and I have to pick up all the stuffing.
The two cats (well, one is missing) are terrorized and refuse to come in the house.
They lifted the lid off the Thanksgiving and Easter tubs and destroyed anything that looked like a doggy toy.
I have to get to the Amazon packages before them.
One got trapped in the pond and ripped up the pond liner.
If I can’t find something, I look in the place where they destroy things.
If I’m not attentive enough, they will barf, piss or poop in the house.
One walks between my legs.
Two sit on my feet.
The girl needs me for loud noises.
The boys attack the leaf blower and vacuum cleaner and the sprinklers.
The boys jump in my truck every time I open the doors, even if I’m not going anywhere.
I can’t sit on the floor without them thinking I want to play.
That went over well today when I cleaned out the fire place.
The newest dog we have had for about two months.
I was so mad that they let me name him.
His name is Mangy.

LOL

You should submit professionally as a writer.
Great stuff.

Don’t know if you’ve heard of the late Lewis Grizzard.

Humor writer from Georgia who had a dozen bestsellers (I read them all and his others, too):
If I Ever Get Back to Georgia, I’m Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground , If Love Were Oil, I’d Be About a Quart Low ,.
Elvis Is Dead and I Don’t Feel So Good Myself and
My Daddy Was a Pistol and I’m a Son of a Gun.

We have a 12-year-old female Rat Terrier who is afraid of storms, real or imagined. She’s currently sleeping in the footwell of my desk having a bad dream.

Also we have a 17-year-old cross-eyed female ginger Tabby that we adopted two years ago to save her from being put down. She loves to go to sleep on my arm when I’m sitting on the sofa. She only weighs five pounds but I’ve found a “gentle” dry cat food that she likes and can keep down. I tell her we’re fattening her up for Kwanzaa, but she’s not impressed.