Women love dogs, not babies

Women love fuzzy animals. It’s an undeniable fact. Dozens of fraternity guys exploit this universal truth for personal gain. Every time I walk across the main campus, I see at least one muscular man with his tiny dog on a leash surrounded by drooling women. My gut reaction is to call PETA in case the gaunt girls attempt to eat the dog, but my second response is to try this woman-catching technique.

The first step to successfully luring college girls is to acquire an equally alluring pet. After visiting several homes, I noticed all the dogs were perfect, but all the burglar alarms were also very effective. After settling for a shelter dog, I was moments away from adopting two manly pit bulls, when the lady at the counter did not appreciate the humor in naming them Little Michael and Vicky.

Without hope of adopting another animal in the state of Georgia, the wheels in my mind began turning. There is only one thing girls find cuter than puppies—babies. If a dog on a leash could lure five girls, then a baby on a leash could lure at least 20.

After scouting Wal-Mart buggies for hours and sitting outside the McDonald’s playground—before Baldwin Police asked me to leave—I realized the two fastest ways to acquire a child is to either make one or borrow a friend’s. Since I am not married, I chose the latter, and my teenage friend was more than willing to let me babysit her child while she went to Daytona for Spring Break.

Little Stephan was perfect. Not only was he adorable, but the shock collar I purchased also kept him well behaved and silent. Stephan quickly learned the basics—fetching toys, standing on his hind legs, and climbing poles to press the cross walk button. After several flea baths and purchasing a small railroad conductor outfit, he was ready for business, and I was ready to be loved.

The first few hours were disappointing. Hoards of women did not flock and question about the origin of my child or offer to pet him. Perhaps it was the thought of a single, teenage father or perhaps they were upset when I refused to bag his scat after he got too excited during our flying disc game. Whatever the reason, females seemed to be repulsed by the thought of rearing someone else’s child. Who knew?

After 12 hours of failure, I decided it was best to return Stephan to his mother. So I put him in his tiny cage, and we headed home. He enjoyed the car ride immensely because the roof of my car does have the best view, and when I took him down, he couldn’t stop crying. I knew he was going to miss me, but I had no idea our bond was so strong. His mother commended me or my efforts introduced me to her new boyfriend she met on the beach and his teacup Chihuahua. He looked so desperate.

Posted by Steve Holbert on Mar 3 2011. Filed under Opinion. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.