mistaken identity

There are a lot of problems with my dog.

My vet told me the problem with him "is that I'll never find another dog just like him".

I'm guessing my dad (and everyone else who's met Ike) would say the problem with him is his ridiculous energy level.

Y might say Ike's problem is lack of judgment when choosing a sitting position.

But I think the biggest problem with Ike is his name, particularly when trying to tell some gross story about him.

"Ike rolled around on a dead squirrel the other day," I told my friends, laughing at the memory. They were not laughing. They looked down at their hands. It was silent for a moment.

"Um, why?" one had the courage to ask.

I was confused. It wasn't that disgusting, was it? Dogs did weird stuff like that all the time, right? "I don't know, because he's a dog? He wanted its scent on him?"

My friends breathed sighs of relief. "Oh, IKE! We thought you said 'I' rolled around on a dead squirrel."

This happens probably once a week. The miscommunication, not me {or Ike} rolling around on dead squirrels.

If you must know, I roll around on animal carcasses because my wolf ancestors did it to mask their scent to predators. My wolf ancestors also wore sweet specs like these.

The worst is when he does something that a human might possibly do, but never would admit to anyone, ever. Like the time Ike sharted on the bed. Or the time Ike had diarrhea all over our house. No, not me. IKE.