I blame the dog for losing my pants.

Well, not the dog directly. But he was definitely indirectly involved.

They were a nice pair of gray pants. Went very well with a black or white shirt. The perfect trendy semi-casual office outfit.

A female friend once commented that they looked nice on me.

And BAM! As soon as a girl says something like that to a guy, he'll start wearing that thing for days on end, until the same girl recants the compliment and violently pummels the guy with Lysol because he's been wearing the same exact outfit for days, including stinky drawers and socks.

So her compliment accelerated my gray pants into "nice" status. I'll wear these pants when I go out with friends or to other related special events.

I wore them on the day I went to visit a friend I hadn't seen in years. To keep my promise of maintaining contact with all of my NYC pals when I move to SF, I spent a week off from work to visit old friends.

It was nice gray pants and black shirt that night. Sweeeeeet. Gotta make a good impression on an old friend, right?

When I got to her apartment, I was greeted by her dog. He's a very nice dog, but a dog nonetheless.

And by "dog," I mean a "Trotting Panting Bouncy Animal Who Drools And Sheds All Over Clothes, Especially Nice Gray Pants."

Do you see where I'm going with this?

I love animals, especially dogs. So when I sat down on my friend's couch and her dog jumped into my lap, I didn't push him away. Instead, I eagerly scratched the little fellah's head.

He rolled around, jumped back and forth from floor to couch, and tried to doogie-kiss me (meaning me tried to French kiss me with his tongue). What better way to express one's affection for another than by licking that person with the same tongue you use to lick your ass?

Oh, and he also deposited a significant quantity of doogie-drool and doogie-hair on my nice gray pants. That's the second best way to express one's affection for another: drool and shed on that person's nice gray pants.

I was overwhelmed by this dog's affection. After a while, I had to end the relationship, because I really can't make such a strong commitment to another only after having met for a few minutes. Plus, if you're gonna drool and shed on me so early in the relationship, how do I know you're still going to respect me the morning after?

When I got home, I promptly threw the nice gray pants into the laundry hamper.

Well, that's not exactly true. In proper male fashion: I sniffed the pants and considered spraying some Lysol on them to help air them out, so I can wear them again tomorrow. Because, as long as the smell doesn't immediately knock you unconscious, it's still fair game.

But the doogie-drool and doogie-hair ultimately changed my mind. Hey, I do have scruples, after all.

Ever hear the saying, "Out of sight, out of mind?" Well, that statement strongly applies to this situation. As soon as those nice gray pants fell into the domain of the laundry hamper, I forgot about them.

Then came the day I was to fly to SF again. The Day of Packing coincided with the Day of Laundry. So my nice gray pants came into my awareness again.

Flying to SF is as special an occasion as any. So into my luggage went the nice gray pants. I would have packed the "Nice But Not As Nice As The Nice Gray Pants" khakis, but opted to wear them instead so that I'd have a fresh pair of nice gray pants when I got there.

Then something horrifying happened. Terrifying. Awfulfying. And totally my fault.

My luggage was lost.

I accidentally left my luggage on the train as I made my way to work in the morning. Morning Sleepiness, coupled with, um, Morning Sleepiness, had my brain in a state of fuzzy fog. I got off the train and didn't remember that I had left my luggage on the rack above my seat.

I didn't lose my "Nice But Not As Nice As The Nice Gray Pants" khakis because I was wearing them, of course. But if I hadn't had doogie-drool and doogie-hairs on those nice gray pants, I wouldn't have put them in the hamper and forgotten about them. I probably would have worn them again that week.

And perhaps I would have even worn them onto the plane and packed the "Nice But Not As Nice As The Nice Gray Pants" khakis, because, after all, I have scruples about putting Already Worn clothes next to Freshly Cleaned clothes. And if I had worn the nice gray pants again, I surely wouldn't have packed them into a luggage full of Freshly Cleaned clothes. Surely not.

Fortunately, this drama has a happy ending. I got my luggage back, along with my nice gray pants. The train station's Lost and Found had my luggage. So things worked out in the end.

Save the fact that I've put a Restraining Order on my friend's dog against my nice gray pants. Hopefully, that way, I'll never lose my pants because of a dog again.

. . .

Ever lose a pair of pants (or other clothing) because of a dog?