Thursday, February 18, 2010

Cute Dog, Bad Dog

"My dog is just like my child." Ridiculous. No it is not.  How's the doggy college fund coming along?  Do you worry about your *prepubescent dog being molested, suffering a lifetime of therapist bills and bad relationsips?   Is Paris Hilton's Chihuahua's eating disorder casting unrealist body images for your doggy? When your dog dies, are you going to get another dog  or will you roam the streets in a medicine stained house dress, surgery slippers and a shopping cart? To wit, I have never tied a bandana around my kids' necks and took them on a hike with a clear sandwich bag full of their own poop.  Well, hardly ever.

Although I had two previous practice dogs and swore I'd never get another one, I am now the owner and master of a Toy Poodle which I named Honey Child.  I had a shocking revelation when I returned from my mall massage to retreive my puppy from the groomer and she was wearing this little sweater with a cupcake on the back.  "Is this me?" I looked in the rearview mirror.  Faced with my own reflection, I assumed it was.

This puppy is seriously messing with my self-image.  Aren't I the bad ass girl from the worst town in California?  Aren't I the brave tough firefighter? I have pulled myself up by my bootstraps so hard that my fingers bled.  Now I have a poodle and this might change me forever. What if I start wearing pastel sweatshirts with paw prints drawn out with puffy paint?  What if I start sending out Christmas cards with her picture on them? Or even just start sending out Christmas cards?

The very worst part about my Honey Child is that she makes me look approachable.  It's like I'm carrying one of the Jonas Brothers in my jacket when I hear the highest pitched screaming of little girls with their eyes wild, hands and fingers spread out like eagle claws as they race to us "Can I hold the puppy! Puppy! Puppy!"  I could handle it if there were just kids, but it's grown-ups too and I don't really like grown-ups so much.

I've been thinking about some proactive steps I can take to free myself of obligatory conversations:

1.  Prepare laminated cards with the following pertinent information:
Name: Honey Child
Born: 9/26/09
Sex: Girl
No, I'm not walking her too fast.
From a breeder
Yes, I love her.
No, I do not care about your dog stories.

2. Get a little tiny t-shirt for her with this printed on the back:
"Do not touch me, I have contageous puppy warts"

3. Wear Men in Black sunglasses, earphones, and walk with my head down muttering deterent statements:
    a)  Oh my, look at those pixies with the machine guns! Why do they keep following me?!
    b)  Can I talk to you about Jesus?
    c)  Excuse me, do you have change for the meter?

As I type this blog, she's curled up in my lap.  She is so warm and lovable that I've let my right foot fall asleep so that I won't disturb her perfect puppy nap, complete with occasional hind leg twitches.  Around my feet are every single one of her toys which she has brought to me.  That's all she has to give is just a bunch of cheap toys from the pet store.  They are made in China with a high probability of lead contamination.  But she shares them with me.   There is one more difference between babies and puppies: Babies are easier to nurse.


*Blogspot has taken away the spell check icon.  If there are any spelling errors, please send them to whothefuckcares@yourmama.com ...  or offer your assistance in locating said missing icon via the comments section.  Thanks

7 comments:

  1. I was lucky enough to meet your son Sean while traveling though Central America. One day while nearly peeing my pants after one of his stories, Angela told me that I had to read your blog. I was told stories of you pushing ice cream cones into your young sons face and laughing! HILARIOUS! Needless to say I have read most of your blog and as a fellow blogger I must say...so much fun! I'm sure i'm not the first to say so but you have a really great son (oh and his girlfriend is not half bad either)! Kudos!

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  2. oh, my oh my. you have joined us in the crazy dog world. i think that it is hilarious that you got a little foo-foo dog and expect NOT to be approached by ravenous kids and nutty adults. Although, you did come to my house when you got her just so we COULD ooh and ahh all over her.
    I do like all your idea about the card, too. Maybe we can make those up for our kids so we don't have to talk to anyone about them either. "Yes, I know that all of us but her are brunettes with brown eyes. Yes, I do realize the odds of that actually happening. Yes, I am sure that she is mine. YES! I am sure that she is HIS, too."
    I really think you are on to something.
    As always, I am anonymous because I can't remember my information to log in. Maybe I should put that on a card.

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  3. I will be concerned if you start talking in a squeaky pitch telling me about the cutest thing your Honey did today... Maybe you could change her name to "bitch" and say, "Come here Bitch", and that will make you look tough again. You can't say Bitch in a squeaky tone. Or just accept that you are a softie!

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  4. okay, i have to know...
    what's the worst town in california?

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  5. Jocelyn - You are wonderful for leaving comments. Thank you so much for compliments on my Sean too. He just left back to Alaska to start his fishing season. He's such a fish head.

    Anonymous G - You are hilarious! Let's make the cards ... and the pillows.

    Misty's Mom - Yes I do say "Honey" in a squeeky pitch. Sean was teasing me when he first came to visit. By the time he left, he was doing it too. It's unavoidable. "Bang"

    Krista - Oh Krista, I hate to say what the worst town in California is because I know there are still those who love it, or at least live in it. Suffice it to say, it was my own personal nightmare.

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  6. I haven't checked in lately and this post made me laugh out loud as yours usually do. I'm catching up on the rest of them too. Love the spell check comment.

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  7. Thanks For checking back in Al! Always a pleasure to hear from
    you:)

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