The Writer's Cramp: My Response To The New Prompt

The New Prompt is:

          Your dog is going through a mid-life crisis... you know this because the animal shrink at the local mall has told you this... what does this "professional" fraud tell you how to cure your dog.



          "Well," Dr. Milkbohn rubbed his chin with his left forefinger, his drooping, shaggy mustache dusting its fingerprint as if to wipe it off this diagnosis. "He actually thinks he's a she. I'd recommend a pink tu-tu and collar, to start."
          Now, where had I heard that before...? "Doctor, I thought you said you were going to tell me how to cure rather than embarrass my dog."
          Dr. Milkbohn shook his head. "Lady, he thinks he's female already, so it won't embarrass him. I also recommend that you come in for counseling about three times a week."
          Monty looked at me with big, pleading puppy-dog eyes. I knew how he felt. "No thank you. Anyway, Monty and I both hate pink. You know, my ex bought me a pink teddy that Monty not only tore to pieces, he also managed to use the trash compactor ro dispose of the carcass. Good thing too -- horrid color, pink."
          "But pink is soothing for the soul."
          Shaking my head, trying not to snicker, I rose from the chair. "No thank you, Doctor." Keeping what little dignity was left to us by this "doctor's" diagnosis, Monty and I held out heads high and left the consultation booth.
          I scratched Monty behind the ears. "You were right, he is a looney."
          Monty barked a laugh.