Hello ladies. Look at your man. Now back to me. Now back to your man. Now back to me.
Sadly, your man isn't me.
My name is Jackson and I am the new love of your life.
When you just need someone to talk to, I will listen without trying to solve the problem.
When you need to be held, I will sit in your lap, wrap my arms around your neck and tuck my cute little head under your chin.
When you are feeling playful, I have moves that a trained circus animal can't pull off.
I will never tell you that you don't look good in that dress.
I will snuggle with you under the blanket and watch movies into the night and I will not judge you if you decide to eat ice cream straight out of the container.
I will love you unconditionally.
And did I mention I'm housebroken? And that I'm great with other dogs and even the family cat?
Ladies, look at your man. Now back at me. The choice is obvious, isn't it?
Jackson.
One part Brad Pitt. Two parts George Clooney. One hundred percent Italian Greyhound. Five years old. The laid back, understated elegance of a Cartier watch. As agile as a puma. As smart as dolphin. As loving as a dream.