Friday, July 16, 2010

Doggy Style


I hate people like me. I hate when people talk about their pets or their kids and have some false sense of superiority thinking their creature/child/rosebush is somehow greater than yours...one upping anything you should bring to the gauntlet. I am that person I get so irritated by. [Tangent: I can only see this increasing tenfold if/when I have children...I mean I won't enter them in pageants or anything, but I can see myself leaning towards being one of those ladies that carries an arsenal of pictures everywhere and who has to force herself not to emblazon her children on sweatshirts and tote bags and anything else that an iron-on will afix itself to (if iron-ons are indeed still the way to transfer images in the future)]But, for now, I will just have to brag about my furry 9 lb baby boy, Newman. I'm sorry, I really can't help it- I kinda have the most awesome dog in the world.

[Tangent: Many speculate that I have named him after a portly Seinfeld character...which although humorous and eerily accurate because he can be annoying, is not true. When we got him, he had blue eyes and was kinda pitiful looking. I wanted to give him a name that was more butch than he was at him measly 2 lbs. Who is more of a blue eyed stud than Paul Newman....NO ONE!]

Well, its not all sunshine and lollipops. I may enter a room and I see Newman surrounded by chewed up toilet paper with his own poop sticking out of his mouth like a fat cuban cigar, but let that not overshadow his awesome. This little brown Chiweenie (or at least that's what we think he is, although my father is convinced he is part pit bull, because he is a conspiracy theorist) was found in a shoebox on the side of the road by Critter Calvary Rescue, which is where we got him.

He was homeless. I like to imagine him with a dark past, a tramp with a stick over his shoulder turning tricks (and I mean that literally not sexually) for a scrap of food or to support his habit, but that is not completely accurate. Newman was likely an unplanned pregnancy (as are most puppies) and was dumped in a box out of lack of options. He then came to live with a nice white suburban family. Its just like the 'Blind Side' only we are not a family of Republicans and we will likely not exploit his talents. [Tangent: another back story I have given him is that he was presumed dead and left in a box by the garbage and the fact that he came back from the dead and was rescued by us is a miracle. (I know I have way too much time on my hands.)]

Regardless, I have had him for about 4 months, and he has basically taught himself to fetch and get in his crate when its bedtime. Plainly put, he's a genius. Once I coerced him into picking up an item I dropped. I did so by giving him false hopes that I would then use it to play fetch with him (Gotcha, sucka!). This leads me to believe that he is on his way to being a service dog. Not that I desire to have a service dog in the least (and I feel his service is terribly hit or miss). I just think he would look adorable in a little backpack.

1 comment:

  1. Don't let him become leverage for Molesterstaches. I've heard it happens.

    ReplyDelete

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