Oh, sure…you watch “I Am Legend” and it makes you cry into their fur, hug their necks and hope they live forever.
Yep, those little deer-like paws are darling and trebly so when dangled off the edge of the bed and crossed like some debutante’s.
But then…then they start their “You’re home. I’m home. So why don’t we, I dunno, GO PLAY BALL? YEAH! YOU WANNA PLAY? BECAUSE I REALLYREALLYREALLYWANNAPLAYRIGHTNOWOKAY?RIGHTNOW!”
Frackin’ HELL! How hard is it to sleep on a couch?! Or eat that expensive fresh organic bison leg bone? Seriously – I’m trying to do some hard research on “Aliens” here and all he can do is harass me. And I already did my part, damn it. I took him to the pasture. He dug up rodent burrows for 20 minutes.
But then it makes me think about how he sorta kneels at the burrow, his darling deer-paw bent at the wrist so he can get close to the ground.
I just hate that.
Anyway, this whole dog thing has me irked as all get out because I really and truly was fine without one. And now there’s this whole “he’s not gonna live forever” thing and I cannot fathom the day when I can’t bury my fingers in his deep, warm ruff. I can’t even plan a mini-vacation without trying to find a place that will accept dogs. Because I can’t bear the thought of him staying at a premier kennel with Platinum level service.
And that whole Rachel Lucas “GOD I love her but this makes me so mad” thing about leaving her dogs for a 3 yr European vacation? Trooper and I talked about it over dinner one night and we knew – there is no way in hell that we could do that. Either he wouldn’t take the job or I wouldn’t go along. But the dog would not be with someone else that long because they KNOW. I know people who say they’re just animals. But what about that dog in Japan
that visited the train station EVERY DAY for 10 years to see if the master returned? Yeah…
It’s hard being a dog owner. A lot harder than even I thought and I expected it to be a hellish matter. But you never expect them to take up a huge corner of your heart. And it’s harder still to see people (cough!-neighbors-cough!) who just toss them in a pen all day and night only to then bring home a new puppy who will meet the same fate. “Look what we got our little unholy terror for Christmas! Isn’t it cute?” Merry Christmas, Puppy! Welcome to Hell!
I never have quite understood the idea of dogs as…yard art. And here in Texas, that appears to be the norm. Oh, I understand the need for a working dog, sure. But to just leave it with only the rare, “OK, I’ll stand out here, drink a beer and pet your head for 5 minutes” routine?
So, yes, I am utterly sick of the “c’mon!let’splay!youreadyyet?!” routine, there is no way he’ll be left outside, alone, all day. Not ever.
So, fine. FINE! C’mon you furry fucker. Let’s see if you can keep up…