Of Chainsaws And Puppy Paws
February 5, 2015
When moving out on one’s own for the first time, it almost seems a natural necessity to obtain a pet as soon as possible. (Some people don’t feel this need and judging by the assorted dead house plants they keep, that’s probably a good thing). To have some companionship in your new home, and how can you be head of the household if there’s no one to be ahead of? Or perhaps it’s a positive snub at your folks as in, “See, I’m keeping me AND that thing over there alive so nyah!” It also feels like a good way to establish your independence. In the sense of having say on who or what resides with you.
In my case it had to be something a bit different and a tad eccentric (big surprise). Having grown up in the familiar territory of dogs and cats I wanted something challenging and new. And so I obtained a duck...which I managed to accidentally drown. Undaunted I obtained a second duck, along with several books on the subject. None of these had any training guidelines so I went with what I knew and trained it like a dog. No I didn’t kill it but when nature called I did release it to fly south...hell maybe that killed it...guess we’ll never know...moving on.
A wide assortment of critters followed the duck but none seemed to really click. Thus the need for animal companionship faded and went into hibernation for 7 years...then my spouse Lil Red came along...with Nutmeg (in color and name), an aging Shih Tzu in tow.
After a week of discovering or stepping in poop and starting a few mornings with wet sock feet, I remembered why I’d never wanted an indoor dog.
Despite my initial (and continuing) apprehension this little elder furry person won my heart. This of course opened the doorway for a second dog—because we didn’t have an “outdoor” one yet. Hey, why not. Might as well dodge fecal matter inside and out, it would kind of balance things out. Thus we took in a Bazooka. A rescue dog that is a corgi/shepherd mix and yes he looks as equally weird as that sounds. Imagine a full sized German Shepherd cut off at the knees and you’ve got a Bazooka.
OK, so we’ve got all areas covered inside and out but...well she is an “aging” Shih Tzu. Considering her years I am informed that it might be best to choose a successor. So she can teach it everything she knows about being an indoor pet. Yes, I was quite convinced that laying around all day and going potty at the most inconvenient times and places is a necessary skill that would require intense training. There was no way we were getting another dog. Three months later we brought Bruce home.
Here we will be brief as brief as our time with this loving male Thih Tzu was. At the age of three we lost him and heartache ensued. Red had an empty place in her heart an under her feet. How could I deny the entry of the mighty Quinn (another male Shih Tzu) into our brood. And that’s it. We’ve got the indoors, outdoors and future covered- NO MORE DOGS!
Then Bazooka disappeared, returning two worrisome weeks later looking pretty rough. Red thought he’d been hit by a car. I had other suspicions. Turns out I was right (for once) he had been out procreating. And he had done so a mile away, through galvanized fencing, according to the owner of the now impregnated Pit Bull. It is said “love conquers all” but backwards through steel fencing? OMG!
The owner knew me and knowing that it would be Bazooka’s last litter (he will be fixed this spring) offered us the pick of the litter. HA HA HA HA HA!!! Seriously? There is no way in holy hell I will allow another four-legged s***-machine onto my property. I had absolutely zero desire to add a German Corgi Pitt to our overcrowded pack. Not gonna happen! Not gonna do it! Not even going to consider...then Red points out that old Zooka is getting on in years...
So, her name is Boggin like toboggan without the “toe.” Red tells me she’ll have to stay indoors till warmer weather. So every morning I awake 10 minutes earlier to clear her pen and “Who let the dogs out?” nowadays is me. So did I go soft? Am I totally whipped? Did my spouse turn me into an foster parent for the ASPCA?
The answer is no to all of the above. The fact is when you take on marriage there has to be some leeway, some sense of compromise. She puts up with my natural weirdness and I tolerate her love for weird nature. At least on three of the dogs anyway. The way I see it, if trained properly, a Welsh Pitt Shepard could be an excellent ally during a zombie outbreak.
Next week: Zombie Pets! How will you deal with yours biting the hand that feeds it?
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Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused. See ya!