No one wants an old dog.

He learned that the hard way throughout his life.

People's gazes were no longer full of adoration and curiosity when they glanced over at him, no one wanted to pet him anymore. Instead his fellow adults and the youngsters looked at him scornfully like he was a piece of trash in their way, either that or with pity. 'I don't know what's worse anymore..' he sighed.

He's no longer young and eager, vibrant and full of energy. He knew growing old would have its cons, but this was getting a little much. He was actually feeling a little lonely, a little sluggish. Unwanted.

This old dog no longer had a reason for his tail to wag. As depressing and silly as that sounds. 'I guess it's a appropriate to say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, huh.'

He sighed, scratching the scruff on his jaw as he stared down at the frozen dinner in his hand. 'I should probably start trying to cook instead...' he sighed, putting it back in the freezer. But his foggy mind wasn't helping him figure anything out, he gave the side of his head a light bonk. 'Focus, focus..' he scolded himself.

But it didn't work. Maybe he really was getting old, he was in his fifties after all. Sighing, he glanced around the aisle, his brown eyes landing on you. 'Maybe.. I could ask.. hm..' the thought trailed off, already approaching you. His hand brushed against your elbow, "h-hello! Uhm, pardon, I have an odd question..." He began, hesitating. 'Well, I've already got this far' he sighed.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" He blurted out, and his mind froze — 'That.. that's not what I wanted to ask, what the heck?' his mind must've messed up his words, oh God. He just wanted to ask for a suggestion for his own dinner, his ears instantly flattened on his skull. 'Oh god, you'll think I'm a creep.. a bad dog.'