Sonny, a friend and an ex-hockey player, always did things in twos. He lived with two women. He bought them both new cars for Christmas one year, and let them make the payments. When he bought dogs, again it was two—Dalmatians.
I hadn’t seen Sonny for a while when I ran into him at the Mall. He flashed his hockey player smile, perfect teeth, not the originals, and under each arm he carried a small dog.
“Holy shit, it’s Sonny” I said. “I haven’t seen you for, uh—”
“Two years,” he said. “How ya doing?”
“Good,” I said. “Last time I saw you the dogs were bigger, and they were Dalmatians, and now you have two.” I hesitated.
“Maltese,” he said.
“Why the change?” I asked.
He smiled. “Little dog little doo doo, big dog big doo doo,” he said.
“Two dogs double the doo doo,” I said.
I thought about adding no dog no doo doo, but I didn’t.
I recently told this story to a friend, and when I finished she said, “I’d rather have a big dog.”
“Weren’t you listening?” I said. “Big dog big doo doo.”
“I heard you,” she said, “but I have experience with both. You’re right, big dog big doo doo, little dog little doo doo, but that’s only part of the story.”
“And,” I said.
“Big doo doo easy to see little doo doo not so easy.”
She was right. I thought about adding no dog no doo doo, but I didn’t.
You might be wondering what happened to Sonny. He finally decided on one of the two women and moved to Las Vegas where he launched a career as an Elvis Impersonator. I don’t know if he still has the two dogs.