He's a funny, funny pup, this Willoughby, and he has every right to own the big personality he has. I adopted Willoughby almost five months ago through a second party rescue service. They had rescued him from a high-kill shelter in L.A. where he doubtless would have been "put to sleep"- such a horrible expression- sometime soon. He had the luck of being adopted once, and then the horrible misfortune to have his tail cut off by his "adopters" before being unceremoniously dumped back at the shelter with a bleeding behind. Understandably, it took me two months before I could go anywhere near that tail, despite the one purple plastic stitch still clinging to the stump, begging to be removed. So the poor pup has earned his quirks, his quick snaps at my hands when I catch him by surprise, the surprise attack on the phantom pain on his rear end, and his right to stare every person on the street right in the face until he determines whether they are a good witch or a bad witch. These quirks make me love him more, and I find myself not just apologizing for his bad behavior, but explaining his neurosis to people on the street. "He's a rescue dog, he had his tail cut off, sometimes he drags his butt across the road while twirling in circles but he's okay, there's just something stuck and we'll be out of the street as soon as I can get close enough to pull that piece of poop off his hair without him biting my hand off..." Even the homeless dude around the corner has started to laugh at my dog-induced insanity.
But what has surprised me the most about having a dog in a big, luxury prone city is my lack of surprise at the services catering to pups and my acceptance of these big-ticket items as cost of living expenses for my pup. I actually found myself debating the merits of adding a Blueberry facial to my dog's grooming service last month (I declined and opted for the organic herbal flea treatment instead. Compromise...). Last week I dragged myself away from purchasing a $135 dog bed because it was plush, it matched my couch, and it was the BEST for my pup! When I went on Overstock.com to look for something similar, I scoffed at $40 dogbeds as being cheap, unworthy, and a bad investment. Ludicrous, right? I'm just clearing expenses for my own keep and I believe a $135 dog bed is a good deal??? What the heck is wrong with me?
I hope this blog becomes a place where you, lovely reader, will laugh at Willoughby's stories and perhaps bring me back down to earth a bit before this whole luxury dog thing goes to my head. Or maybe you'll let it go to my head, just to see what happens. Somehow I don't think Willoughby is going to object...
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