It's gonna happen now

In my attempts to get Gus and Griffin, the resident agoraphobics out of the house, I have to hear myself speak with this false enthusiasm and high pitched tone, that could easily remove the rust off of Jake's new fifteen year old car leaking oil on my driveway.
I was meeting a friend and her daughter for a walk, I thought daughter/son, so I had to come up with one, and because Gus actually gets up before three in the afternoon, he would be the best prospect.
We walked with them and their normal large happy dogs. To describe Griffin as tense would be the understatement of a lifetime. He walks with, his shoulders, if dogs had shoulders, hunched, his head thrust forward and down and his tail firmly tucked over his non-existent balls, frequently he'll stop and check if his penis is still there, and in the case of his former parts having been removed, that is something I can understand.
Needless to say, he does not enjoy himself; and then there's Gus who being above ground without a controller or drumstick in his hands makes for the same image, sans missing body part issues.
I just love to watch as the other dogs swim, chase sticks and act like there is nothing they have to be serious and determined about, unlike my two who seem to feel that home is the only safe possible place to let it all hang out.