The champagne experiment was a success. Get your inner critic a little drunk and he rolls over like a big dumb dog.
I’ve recently realized that “like a big dumb dog” is my favorite simile. I use it all the time.
When abroad:
“You can tell Californians from other Americans. A Californian is like a big dumb dog: we jump and slobber all over you saying ‘like me! Like me! Like me!'”
In matters of the heart:
“I say I’m over that guy but as soon as he calls I wanna jump back in his lap like a big dumb dog.”
In cuisine:
“When Gene’s out of town I will systematically eat everything in the fridge like a big dumb dog, no matter how old or terrible it is.”
“Big” is a key part of this. Big dogs seem dumber to me. Small dogs seem cunning, like the cats or rats they sometimes resemble. Small dogs might have a plan to come at your ankles from the side. Big dogs don’t need that kind of planning ability because there’s no way you can ward them off even if you see them coming.
If I had more opportunities to describe Michele, I would probably also use the simile “like a smart little cat” a lot.
