Being a two-headed dog man leads to a few problems in this day and age, one of the most noticeable being that if Anthony decides to get married, you have to go along with it all because he’s the one who earns the income so there’s nothing you can do about it even if you don’t like Marilyn and she’s mean to you when Anthony isn’t looking which is more often than you’d think considering that you share a body.

Also:

When a two-headed dog man gets married, technically BOTH of you are getting married, so technically it’s a three-way wedding, which is illegal in most democratic states.

We live in Oregon. Three-way weddings are not legal in Oregon, so we had to fly all the way to Wyoming, where most things are legal, apparently.

Also:

Dog people (no matter how many heads they have) are a pretty recent occurrence, so it’s pretty unclear how they travel on planes. The equally recent occurrence of cat people and bird people didn’t bring up nearly this many problems. Anthony got scared on a plane one time and growled at a child, so both of us ended up on the no-fly list, which is unfair, because it is.

Then some dachshund woman sued the government so all dog people were taken off the no-fly list, which is actually pretty unsafe because some of them were on there for a reason. But it meant that we didn’t have to drive to Wyoming, which is good, because two carsick dog heads are worse than one carsick dog head.

I don’t know how Marilyn plans to deal with the whole dog-ness, or the whole thing where I’m, you know, attached to her husband. But she doesn’t seem worried. I wonder if it’s because Anthony and I make 400K a year. I’m not even sure what we do. I think we own some sort of publishing company. Anthony is the brains in this outfit -- I’m just along for the ride.

Everyone likes Anthony better, too. He’s a little bit closer to human, I’m a little bit closer to dog. I’m cuter, but he’s smarter and better at talking to people.

Double Dog Publishing Co. I just remembered it -- we published JK Rowling’s much-anticipated sequel series, “Fluffy and the Guardianship of Dumbledore’s Trapdoor.” She said, in an interview, “I never said that Fluffy wasn’t a self-aware dog-man.” I never read the books -- too scary.

Wyoming was boring, but the wedding was kind of fun. We had bacon bites, which Anthony never buys. Whenever I control the arms and put them in the cart, he just puts them back, which is mean, because they’re good, but Anthony says that they’re fattening, but half of this body fat is mine so I should be able to do what I want with it. But he agreed that, since technically one third of this wedding is mine, I should be able to have some say, and I say BACON BITES.

Marilyn decided that her one-third of the wedding was going to be lilac-themed, which is outrageous, because me and Anthony look terrible in lilac. But since I got the bacon bites, I let Marilyn tie a lilac bandana around my neck. Well, our neck. We kind of meet at the chin. It’s hard to explain.

The ceremony was boring. I almost fell asleep, but Anthony kept pinching us. I had to say “I do,” because technically it’s a three-way wedding, and Anthony even made me read some of the vows, which was hard because I can barely read. But he drew some pictures in the margins and I figured it out.

After the ceremony, the robe guy told us that we were the 4,153,235th, 36th, and 37th people to get married that year. Which is pretty cool, I guess. Especially the bacon bites.