Dumb Dog is not a Dude.
She is a chick. Precisely because I needed to break up the testosterone in this place.
And. When I told Dumb Dad that I wanted another baby, he passed out cold, and then said I could get a dog. A girl dog.
Baby Dog Daughter.
This week is National Dog Week.
Not sure what that means exactly, probably just another way for someone somewhere to make some more money.
But, as a proud dog owner who loves the face offa her pooch, I’m celebrating it.
By not saying she stinks even one time this week. Which is made possible by the fact that I am in New York until late Tuesday.
And, while I have no idea how the rest of the nation celebrates this
entirely made up event, I’m going to urge you to really think about responsible puppy ownership.
Sure, puppies look cute and cuddly when you see them on awesome blogs, and TV and junk. But, just like kids, they are a ton of work. And, sometimes they hate you, which they like to prove by literally pooping inside of your favorite pair of shoes. But, unlike kids, they are easy to get rid of. No one really even bats an eye when you say you’re over your dog. Sure, they silently judge you, but it’s not like they report you to the authorities or kick you out of the PTA.
It’s just really easy to do.
Sure, I know all about having to relocate a pet; Dumb Dog 1 entered the dog relocation program thanks to his inability to stop biting children. We were fortunate to find him a good home with a lonely old man my parents know who takes extra good care of him and probably feeds him from his own mouth like a baby bird (don’t ask why, he just gave off that vibe). But all pups aren’t that lucky.
I know you’ve all seen that hideous commercial with the Sarah McLachlan song that makes you bawl your make up clean off in the middle of the day, so you don’t need a lecture on being good to your pup from me. But often, formerly happy dogs end up in scary situations like that after great families, who bit off more responsibility than they could chew, relinquish those dogs to the pound. Or the street. Or wherever.
So, yeah, as a-freaking-dorable as Dumb Dog is, please know that sometimes she makes me spit some intense cuss words in her direction when she chews up my check book. Or crashes through my screen door. For the 14th time in a week.
So, think about that awesome before you bring a bundle of crazy into your house. Or get pregnant.