Since we’re going for a newspaperly/magazine-ish thing here, I thought an advice column would be fun. And who would give better advice than my dog? Well, lots of people, probably, but that’s beside the point. Here’s his first column.

Dear Tiny,

I’m in love with my co-worker. The difficulty? Well, there are a lot of difficulties, like, she’s already married, and she doesn’t know I’m in love with her. But I don’t think that will be too much of a problem since this woman’s husband is mean to her and we have the most amazing connection ever. So, how should I confess my love to this woman?

Signed,

Lover in La Vergne

Tiny says:

I think just about everything you said is a problem. My dear, departed father, Tiny Sr. always said, “Don’t poo where you eat.” This is good advice in lots of areas, especially when it comes to your problem. See, if you didn’t have a job anymore, you wouldn’t have anything to eat *or* a place to poo. Unless you go in the yard, like I do. Even so, it’s best to use your own yard, because people tend to get mad if you go and poo in a yard not belonging to yourself. Trust me on that one, I know.

So, I can hear you thinking, “But there’s no poo here! This is beautiful, wonderful love!” Naw, man. Your situation is more poo-filled than my yard. Breaking up a marriage is always bad, no matter how bad the marriage is. Dating your co-worker is just plain stupid. It could easily get you fired.

My advice? Quit your job and wait until she gets a divorce to tell her of your love for her. Or, the easier route, move on to greener pastures. No worries, dude, my advice is freely given, no need to shower me with treats and greenies with your eternal thanks. Unless, of course, you want to.