Polar bear butch: oversized jean jackets, denim on denim, moon lesbian, starry skies, flannels buttoned all the way up, has a lil muffin top, always loosing their glasses, converse that look like they’ve gone through war

Grizzly bear butch: the tackiest lesbian, light blue jeans, red flannels, wrist watches, weight lifting, misty mornings, orange sunrises, pine trees, would laugh any joke, doesn’t shave, a rowdy mountain gal

Black bear butch: 80s punk music, graphic t shirts, rebellious, sleeps in class, piercings, dark clothes, peppermint gum, would punch a transphobe for fun, sunglasses indoors, jean vest with pins and patches, colorful socks, probably in a band, short but intimidating

Sun bear butch: always trying new styles but ends up wearing the same things anyway, only listens to lgbt musicians, checkered Vans, ripped jeans, tie dye shirts, bleached hair, snap backs, intersectional feminist

Panda butch: loves flowers, big spoon, never wears shoes, grey t shirts, gentle breezes, walks in the forest, wholesome memes only, forgetful, big and warm and very good for holding, cat person, acoustic guitars, scented candles and incense, likes to play it safe, probably vegan

Daisy:

We trained the dog so that when he wants out, he goes to the front door and waits.

Somehow in his little golden retriever brain, he interpreted this to mean “go to the front door, and lick it.”

If he’s at the door, but isn’t licking it, he doesn’t need out, he’s just chilling.

So, this was our routine - when he wants out, he goes to the front door, and licks it. And then we moved house, and he got very, very confused.

He knew he had to go to the front door when he wants out, but this was a new house with obviously a door that was completely new to him.

Despite our condo having only one door that leads outside, and him going out this very same door literally at least five times a day, every day, for about a year…he still has no idea where the front door is in this house. Absolutely no idea at all.

Now whenever he needs out, he will go to any random door and start licking it. And I mean any door - the bathroom door, my bedroom door, my closet, the goddamn door of a kitchen cabinet, even.

I don’t know if he’s really smart or really dumb. Because clearly, he understands conceptually what a door is. I don’t know if he thinks my closet or the kitchen cabinets lead to outside, or if he’s just hoping to find doggy Narnia, or if he’s just hopelessly given up on ever being able to find the door by himself and is just doing the best he can, but every goddamn time he wants out, he’s right there licking the glass door to the shower or something.

He doesn’t alert us he needs out any other way. So if you haven’t seen him in a while, you have to search room by room until you find him with his tongue pressed up against the linen closet because he thinks outside might be that way.

me: