cane corso's are just big muffins

"are you two getting out of bed... or...?"
"why? why the fuck do i have to get out of bed? it's the weekend. i have a cold. i have a dog and really, i think this is all a jealousy thing!"

i readjusted myself to spoon closer into the beast. i was babysitting a furry brat for a couple of weeks while my upstanding citizen friends went on some homo boat cruise or tour around morocco or something. all i knew is i had a loaner 105 pound dog and i wasn't really interested in doing much more than cuddle and feel gloomy in bed.
Brad hated the dog. correction: he was scared of the dog. he had only been around wee scrubs and never got over seeing Abel stumping around the apartment like a muscular pony.

Abel was a lamb. truly the reason why i love large dogs. just a chilled out beast who was only frightening when play sparring with another mutt or when i was tardy feeding him. even the latter wasn't THAT bad. he just grabbed his chow pan and clattered it up against the wall until you came to acknowledge him. and if you ignored that, he was a good chum and would come find you. last time the woof was living with Brad and i, he was pissy that i took a shower without feeding him first. i came out to brad on top of the couch terrified with Abel bonging the food dish against the wall. it was just a bratty cadence of "feed me now. feed me now!"
brad gasped when i came into the living room to see what the noise was.
"Oh god... he looks angry..."
"jesus... you're a fucking fag wimp you know that? Abel, drop it." clatter. "good babe. go lay down."
he looked at me like i was some sort of omnipotent beast master and shook his head.
"look, we've talked so many times. Abel is a marshmallow. i trust him more than that cunty little schnauzer Mac has. Seriously, how many times has that bitch bit you or come REAL close?"
"like a million ti..."
"LIKE A MILLION FUCKING TIMES." Abel peeked around the corner and gave me the sad face.
"ok, listen. all you need to do is go into it confidently. he knows he's huge and if he can boss you around, he will. and you ignore his ass as much as possible so yeah he's going to be creative to get your attention. can you just pet him for a minute? I want you to be ok with him. not like last time where you just chickened out and left for the weekend."
"no... feed him first."
throwing my hands up i went to feed the beast. glomping down huge mouthfuls i scratched his back a little and smiled. i always got such an endorphin rush around animals. too bad i'm too irresponsible to actually own one instead of temp loaners. beastie face turned back to me dripping with smashed up kibble particles and a stumpy tail wag.
"you're a good lad. finish up and we'll take you for a walk with your uncle Brad."
"I have stuff to do."
"stuff, eh? ok then." i pulled out a brown paper wrapped joint. it was real pro-like and spun up by the fat jamaican dyke who i chatted up during smoke break at work. she was in a different office, but let me tell you, pothead homosexuals lock and load when we spy another like-minded individual. we had an arrangement where i turned over some of my ativan and she bequeathed me right proper spliffs. there were a conversation starter. and packed to the tits with brain melting goodness.
"mmmmmmmmmmooooooooooookaaaaay i think i'll come."
"that's what i thought. you're walking him."
"NO!"
Abel stopped eating and cantered over to see Brad.
"look what you did! you scared the baby! seriously, dude. let's just get over the fear of this."
my ringmaster proverbial whip of a joint was just enough clout to get him to consent.