All I really wanted was to be on the cover of Gentleman’s Quarterly. Is that to much to ask. I had my look down and my poses! I showed them to everybody but nobody ever took me seriously. I don’t understand why. I’m blond, have big eyes and I look ever so strong. Some people just don’t get it.

My neighbor, Skip says it’s because I’m a dog. I think that it’s discrimination. My people honestly do try to help me though. They got me new dog food, a new kennel, and a new collar, but what good does a new collar do me, if all GQ subscribers can’t see it? I’ll tell how much: Jack-diddly-squat!!!

It was when I was watching MTV with my little person when I got the idea, maybe, if I could convey my feelings, my people would take me to a mind reader… And hey, wasn’t that building at the corner of my street a psychic? Yes, my plan could work.

At 5:20 my big person finally got around to walking me, honestly, the psychic at the corner closes at 5:30 and the one over at Jackson Street is too far to walk. I pulled her down the street but just as we neared the corner we ran into Mrs. Peters walking Skip, so they had to chat, BLAH BLAH BLAH! Gosh!

Well it was 5:28 when they stopped talking. I turned and ran up the stairs and scratched at the door. The psychic opened the door and I ran inside. By the time my person ran up to get me the psychic was deep into a trance and so my person just had to wait till she was conscious to apologize. 3 minutes later the psychic was still in a trance and my person was getting impatient. She had grabbed my leash and her hand was on the door knob when I got desperate. I yelped and the psychic opened her eyes and yelled “Gentleman’s Quarterly!”

My person gave her ‘the look’ and said, “Look I am so sorry about my dog…”

But the psychic interrupted her, “That’s just it! The dog! I knew it the moment he walked in!”

“Excuse me?” My owner said.

The psychic sighed. Then she spoke slowly like my person was dumb (I am not saying she isn’t) “Your dog wants to be
on
the
cover of
Gentleman’s
Quarterly!”

My person looked at me and then at the psychic. “So were those funny poses for the magazine?” she asked after a bit.

“Oh gosh. You really should have worked harder at figuring out your dog’s trauma. This has caused him many sleepless nights and indigestion! Of course the poses were for the magazine!” The psychic yelled.

“Can dogs really get on the cover of magazines?” my person asked.

“I don’t see why not!” replied that psychic.

My person looked bewildered. A look of disbelief entered into her features. She wasn’t believing. As I watched her eyebrows lift, and her incredulous look strengthen, I knew I had to do something. My future, my career, was hanging in limbo in this very moment. And I would need to bring more than my famed puppy dog eyes to the table this time.

Channeling my inner male model, I threw back my head, extended my neck, and striking my best “fierce” face, I contorted my body into the most exotic pose I could imagine! In that moment, I wasn’t just a dog, I had been transformed to a magazine cover worthy model, and my person’s face made it apparent that she knew that too. And in that moment, I realized that I had achieved my dream and I was going to make it onto the cover one day! Or at least I could try- I had my person’s backup now!