I want a dog. For so many reasons. I love them. As a freelancer, I need a reason to go outside. And it’s more fun writing jokes at home with a dog audience sitting next to me. Also, rent is so high and needs to be worthwhile, I want someone constantly inhabiting my flat, if person, dog or burglar.
I have a foster dog now. It’s basically like leasing. You have them for a try out period. And at the end you have the option to purchase or leave them at a highway restaurant.
Her race is called „Chinese Crested Powder Puff“, which sounds a bit like a far eastern fitness drink. How do I explain it… have you heard of the contest „the ugliest dog in the world“? Yup, it’s that one. They win every year. They’re like Russian figure skaters gold medalists. It’s not fair, they win every time. They’re just too ugly.
My dog has substantially more hair though, that covers up the contest winning face. When I got her, she didn’t have hair, she had dreadlocks. She didn’t live with a hippy but neglect. So I went to the dog salon. What a goofy place. There was so much hair flying around, enough to equip the next three Gucci collections with fur. At first, I didn’t see the hairdresser, until she appeared underneath the hair like a camouflage soldier.
„Just take away all the unhealthy hair. It doesn’t have to look good“, is what I said to her. Yeah and then two hours later I saw the dog. Having several thoughts on my mind. Maybe I should have told her to leave one dread lock, just one, for coolness. Do animals know they’re ugly? And lastly, where is the next ugliest dog contest, I might have a winner.
I walked the dog back home. One guy said „geez, does she have cancer?“. Yes it’s a cancer dog. Fresh from dog chemotherapy. Additionally, she’s a fearful dog. She’s scared of everything. Like those people that can’t watch scary movies and end up screaming at everything.
My dog is terrified of cars, bikes and air. Strangers look at her all shaky saying „awwww“. And then give me the look like I’m an animal abuser. That’s my sign to yell out „rescue dog, I saved her, worship me ok thanks.“ How one powerful sentence can make people believe you’re not an animal abuser but a saint! I see myself saying that everyday now, with or without dog.
So will I keep her? Not sure. I looked at so many dogs now. At the animal shelter, all dogs are either old, sick or on a cruiseship. But you know what I liked about the shelter? They don’t do false advertising! On the cages they have clearly written signs: „Bobby bites“, „Tyson humps everyone“, „Molly limps and will cause substantial cost and you’ll probably go bust“. There it is black and white. And it’s true. I get there, I get bitten. And I can’t complain about it.
The dogs don’t even try to show themselves from a good side. I thought: I’m their savior, holding the one rose that will determine their fate. And suddenly, the kennel is quiet. Bobby goes „I don’t bite. Never have. Never will. I don’t even bite my food. I just lick it. Lick, lick, look!“ Tyson claims he’s asexual, woof. And Molly jumps around „everything okay, I’m in topform. Ouch ouch, just kidding. Pick me pick me.“ It’s like dating, you lie until you’re a couple and can’t be abandoned at a highway restaurant.
To be continued…
*(I feel silly saying this, but some of this is satire. Just making sure. Okay bye)