Having a baby has shown me that (1) caring for dogs is infinitely easier than kids, and (2) dealing with dogs along with a baby will often make for straws-breaking-my-camel-back situations. And these two have been in just rare form lately.
First, Sugar. I took them both on a run one morning off leash through the English Gardens. It was an unusually nice morning and so the park was full. We passed through a gaggle of dogs, which led to much canine chicanery. Billy made it out of the fray, and ran to catch up with me. I noticed that Sugar, however, had fallen far behind. So I turn to look. No Sugar. I begin to start back and then I see her. Relieved, I call her name, she perks up, decides that the voice is coming from behind her, turns around and runs as fast as she can. Away from me. So I begin to chase my dog as countless confused onlookers gesture to me that my tiny poodle is running like a possessed squirrel in the opposite direction. The more I call her name, the more desperately she sprints. Yesterday she fell behind in a different park but instead of running away from me, she simply gave up on life and sat at the feet of some women on a bench, forcing me to lure my own dog away from two strangers.
Then Billy. A dog whose fear of storms causes him to pant outside my armoire until I clear out my shoes and let him in. He is not afraid of making me look like an idiot, though. Billy proved this by stealing a bun from a picnic two days back. He was caught in the act by the bread's rightful owner, and he was yelled at by me, but it still took hours for that dopey grin to fade from his face.
In conclusion, two gently used poodles for sale. All reasonable offers will be considered.
Heh! Aegon has taken to bolting out of open doors and doing laps around the neighborhood (including darting in front of oncoming garbage trucks) before finally going to visit neighbors in their yards, who kindly grab on to him for us. Two episodes, two neighbors, in two weeks. And he spends thunderstorms wedged in the bathroom corner next to the sink. No wonder they are all such good friends.
ReplyDeleteAdd to your post.. one over sized orange cat that can be whatever breed perspective owners want it to be.. orange maincoon, orange himalayn.. Jason wanted to add endures long testing well.. but I thought that would be tacky and taking it too far.
ReplyDeleteOh Jen, that is extra stupid. Sounds very much like a dog in that regard.
ReplyDeleteAnd I think you're right, Stina, you've got to play it cool to lure new owners. Can't sound desperate.
Let's hope prospective owners never read these posts.
ReplyDelete