Man’s best friend is not a vagina

By Dave Hon

I was sitting in my room with a friend (female) watching Marley and Me. It’s a great movie because I can identify with everything about it: the dog, a loving family, being a journalist/columnist, everything. But here’s the problem. My dog Misty died almost 4 months ago, and every-time I see them put Marley to sleep I go into tears.

So, I’m watching the movie for the second time and I’m on the verge of bawling, successfully holding it in, and my friend asks if I’m crying and I say no in a low tone. I might have said no, but it was obvious. This lasted for the last few minutes of the film.

Then, she starts to make wise cracks about them ‘treating the dog like a human’ and ‘eww, she’s letting the dog lick her face.’ My tears were turning to red hot anger. Luckily, I’m very self controlled, thanks to this blog, hahaha.

Peter says that it’s a cultural thing. It’s obvious that she never had a pet because she asked me, “Are you a pet person?” I didn’t think you had to be a pet person to get that movie. Do you have to be a pet person to see a friend is crying?

Here’s the thing. I wouldn’t have expected being comforted by one of my guy friends because that doesn’t comfort me, or at least in that way. I can see Ben saying, “Hey man, you okay? I miss Misty too, she was a great dog.” And then we’d laugh about how after she was dead and we put her in the car, she let loose one last fart, haha!

But my female friend wouldn’t have known that. Still, she should have done something. Put her arm around me, hugged me, asked me something about Misty. Instead, she walks out after the credits and halfway through an episode of The Office.

Is there something wrong with me? No. I just think the entire world is lacking in affection. I’m not talking about love or any of that crap. I’m talking about everyday affection. The kind of thing you do when a friend is down and you place your hand on their back and you move your hand around in a circle, letting them know that you’re there.

I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman to do this for me…and mean it. I mean, there are those manipulative bitches that use affection to gain trust and I think they have completely ruined affection as a social currency.

The fact is, I’m a man, and men do cry. If the image of a man is someone who can hold his tears in and be a stoic pervert who translates affection to sex, then I guess I’m not a man in anyone’s eyes. But I’ve always strived to be different.

I would like to dedicate this commentary to Misty: the only bitch who ever showed me affection (besides my mother). The great thing was the only thing she asked for in return was a can of dog food.