The almost perfect wingman

When my girlfriend walked out on me, I was shattered. I didn’t see it coming, although all my friends apparently questioned why we were together and how I managed to stay with her for so long. I wallowed in the self-pity of “Nobody will ever love me again”. Then I bought Ronin, a German Shepherd puppy. He was cute, with pointy ears and a pudgy face, and he had personality. We hit it off immediately and became the best of buds.

I also found out that Ronin was the near-perfect wingman.

We could go to the beach and then women in bikinis would want to come over and pat him. He’d play up to it, encourage them to scratch behind the ear, and even lovingly give them a lick. His fluffy fur made him look like a little ball of fuzz. He was a magnet for women, and while they fawned over him, I would take the chance to chat, find out if they were seeing someone, and let them see how attentive a dog owner I was.

I secured a few dates out of it, which was great. Eventually meeting someone special, she and I ended up dating for a few years. All thanks to Ronin.

Now, remember I said he was a near-perfect wingman. So there was ONE incident that ruined his perfect record.

We had been at the beach and were heading back to the car. He’d had a run; we’d thrown the ball and he was generally happy. What I didn’t realize at the time was that he’d eaten something when I wasn’t looking that didn’t agree with his tummy.

As I got to the car, there was a pink convertible parked next to it, with two beautiful bikini-clad women. The car park bitumen was hot, so I carried Ronin in my arms. These two ladies saw me carrying him and let the all too familiar “Awwww” as we approached.

“What’s his name?” the woman in the passenger seat asked. “Ronin, like the movie”, I responded. They both looked back at me with an expression that told me they hadn’t seen the movie and didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Can we hold him?” the passenger asked, thinking that this was another way to secure a date I of course agreed and handed him over. Unlike normal, however, Ronin wasn’t his usual playful self. He lay down in the woman’s lap letting out a low groan. “Oh, are you tired little fellow?” the driver asked as her hand patted the back of his head. I heard another rumble and realized it was coming from his stomach, I had never heard a sound like that come from him before.

The passenger picked him up so that his face was level with hers. She began to ask, “Are you hungry little…” but before she could finish her sentence, I watched as some green-yellow colored vomit exited his mouth directly into her face. There were chunks in there I didn’t recognize, but the odor had a very definite seafood smell to it.

The woman screamed, her companion screamed, and Ronin barked with excitement. It seemed he just needed to get that out for him to return to his usual self. The passenger dropped him into her lap and began to wipe the chunky liquid from her face. Ronin, having clearly not learned his lesson started to lick it up again. This made the woman scream even more.

Through the flailing of arms and high-pitched shrieks of disgust, I grabbed Ronin to try to stop him from consuming whatever this was again. The women were disgusted, they grabbed their beach towels to try to stop the vomit from spreading through the vehicle and to get it off them.

Within seconds, a crowd had formed as a result of the screams, had Ronin not been a cute, adorable puppy I’m sure some would have thought that there had been a Cujo-style attack taking place.

I mumbled an “I’m sorry”, as I bundled Ronin into the car. Driving away the smell of whatever he had eaten filled the cab and I had to drive with the window down the whole way home.

From then on I learned if a young woman was holding Ronin, to make sure I knew what he’d eaten beforehand.