A large majority of my day is pretty much determined by two things...my son and my pack. No, not my righteous highlighter yellow pack of the fanny variety. That is a completely separate topic filed under "Ridiculously useful yet utterly embarrasing accesories."
My pack refers to my furkids: Charlotte, Ziggy, Ralph and Maya - listed in order from least to greatest pain in my ass. But, I gladly put up with it because I am a certified DOG FREAK!
Always having been an animal freak, my freakdom for dogs specifically developed around age 12. This was the first time I kidnapped a dog that was being grossly neglected. I single-handedly strategized the most clandestine canine shangai ever attempted by a 12 year old!
I waited until the people left for work, brilliant. Then, armed with nothing but a hot dog, I unlatched (UNLATCHED) the fence door (THE FENCE DOOR), unchained Chester and ran like hell (LIKE HELL). With the hot dog as bait, I lured Chester over. Immediately sensing my leadership skills, he naturally wanted to run away with me to certain safety.
Actually he was really sweet and pretty much just followed me home. That dog would follow anybody. In fact, he followed some dude who was walking one day and we never saw Chester again. I didn't say this story had a great ending, just where my dog freakdom came from.
After that first dog-napping and then subsequent failure as a pet owner, I realized two things. First, I wanted to save all dogs of the world and second, my parents are not dog people.
Stay tuned for a future blog, "How to love someone who is not a Dog Person: It can be done."
Happy Tuesday everybody, atleast it's not Monday~
http://www.arleebee.com/
PSA: For those of you who may be a wee bit hyper, I am in no way condoning kidnapping dogs....or anything for that matter. I was 12 and basically unsupervised. It was the 80's. Thank you for your time.
No comments:
Post a Comment