Dear Aunt Foley: I know you normally don’t answer humans’ questions but I need your help. I was a happily confirmed bachelor. I played trumpet in a band and I enjoyed bowling. Then I met a wonderful woman and her cute dog and I fell in love. I soon asked her to be my wife. Everything was wonderful. I even taught her how to bowl. She did OK her first couple of times, but now she has beaten me three times in a row. Now Foley, I love my fiancee and her dog but I was very proud of my bowling. What should I do?
Dear Romey’s Dad: I had to do some research on human relations and I have found out your problem. Your bowling is off because your ball is larger than it was before you became engaged. I read in the New England Journal of Medicine that once a man puts a ring on it shared recreational activity slows down and a man’s balls grow larger. After he has been married a few years it may get better because according to my research “after several years of marriage men’s balls are the size of bowling balls.” That should return your game to normal. But if his bowling ball suddenly turns blue, he needs to consult a dogtor.
Dear Aunt Foley: I am a very young pup. Recently I lost some teeth. I am concerned about this because I like my teeth. I use them for chewing food and chewing food is my favorite thing to do. Should I be worried about the lost teeth?
Dear Dexter: When you are a young pup and you lose your teeth they grow back. If you are an older pup like me they don’t grow back when you lose them. But when they snip your goodies, those never grow back, so it you still have them then treasure them, treasure them like there is no tomorrow.
Dear Aunt Foley: Honestly, I thought Mommy and I were playing a game. I would get in the tub, she would lather me up, and then I would jump out and run around the house getting everything wet. She would run after me yelling. Oh the good times we had. Well apparently I was wrong. Mommy didn’t see it as a game at all. And now she has told Daddy that he has to take me out of the house to get a bath. In public! It’s like I will have to wear a giant bandana with B embroided on it for bath. What can I do?
Dear Koda: Oh how I envy you. I am too small to get out of the tub. But it sounds like a fun game. I wish I could do it. But your Mommy is acting like a wet rag. But don’t worry. You have an ally. Your Daddy. Just convince him to do what most men do best: do everything wrong. Don’t have him rinse you off your dry you. Have him put you in Mommy’s seat in the car and get it all wet and dog smelling. After this happens a few times your Mommy will get mad at him and decide she needs to do it herself. And you’ll be back in the tub.