1.
Dogs are never permitted in the house. The dog stays outside
in a specially built wooden compartment named, for very a good
reason, the dog house.
2.
Okay, the dog can enter the house, but only for short visits
or if his own house is under renovation.
3.
Okay, the dog can stay in the house on a permanent basis, provided
his dog house can be sold in a yard sale to a rookie dog owner.
4.
Inside the house, the dog is not allowed to run free and is
confined to a comfortable but secure metal cage.
5.
Okay, the cage becomes part of a two-for-one deal along with
the dog house in the yard sale, and the dog can go wherever
the heck he pleases.
6.
The dog is never allowed on the furniture.
7.
Okay, the dog can get up on the old furniture but not the new
furniture.
8.
Okay, the dog can get up on the new furniture until it looks
like the old furniture and then we'll sell the whole darn works
and buy new furniture … upon which the dog will most definitely
not be allowed.
9.
The dog never sleeps on the bed. Period.
10.
Okay, the dog can sleep at the foot of the bed.
11.
Okay, the dog can sleep alongside you, but he's not allowed
under the covers.
12.
Okay, the dog can sleep under the covers but not with his head
on the pillow.
13.
Okay, the dog can sleep alongside you under the covers with
his head on the pillow, but if he snores he's got to leave the
room.
14.
Okay, the dog can sleep and snore and have nightmares in bed,
but he's not to come in and sleep on the couch in the TV room,
where I’m now sleeping. That's just not fair.
15.
The dog never gets listed on the census questionnaire as "primary
resident," even if it's true.
YOU
KNOW YOU'VE BEEN
WORKING RESCUE TOO LONG WHEN...
You
have a mental list of people you'd like to spay or neuter.
You
stopped at a house with a "Free Puppies" sign in the
yard to have an educational "chat," and your kids
had to post your bail.
Running
out of paper towels is a household crisis.
You
not only know all the characteristics of a good "stool,"
you discuss them at dinner.
Your
checks have messages on them like "Subtract Two Testicles
For Every Four Feet."
You
have a bumper sticker that reads "My Boxer Is Smarter Than
Your Graduate Student."
You
secretly wonder about such things as how animals can manage
without wiping.
You
pray they will someday manufacture Teflon furniture.
You
have phone calls forwarded to PetsMart.
You
absentmindedly pat people on the head or scratch them behind
their ears.
Given
the choice of having your teeth cleaned or their teeth cleaned,
they get their teeth cleaned.
You
not only allow pets on the couch, guests have to sit on the
floor because the dog has "territorial issues."
Your
spouse missed the final game of the World Series because the
cat wanted to watch his favorite video, "Birds of North
America."
Any
time the animal appears lethargic, you go on-line and investigate
VetMed websites, pose questions to your address book and on
e-lists. Then by the time you digest all the information and
field the replys, the animal has torn out the window screens,
shreaded a couch cushion and left something disgusting on your
favorite pair of shoes.
Your
chatroom handle is "Queen of Spayeds."
You
and your vet are on a first name basis and he genuflects when
you enter the waiting room. His daughter at Harvard refers to
you as "Auntie."
You
needed a prescription to recover from "Old Yeller."
You've
forwarded more warnings about the dangers of chocolate, onions
and mistletoe than the National Center for Disease Control has
issued about anthrax and smallpox.
You
wear white year 'round, not because you are flaunting a fashion
law or belong to a religious sect but because you have a Dalmatian,
Great Pyrenees, Samoyed or white Persian at home.
No
one would ever guess from your "dog or kittyspeak"
posts to e-lists that in reality you are chairman of the IBM
corporation.
By
the time you investigate different flea control products, their
advantages and potential risks, natural versus chemical methods,
and study the life cycle of the flea, any fleas have died of
old age.
You
tell your children to "heel!" in a grocery store.
For
relaxation, you went mall hopping with your girlfriends. Your
eyes glazed over when you saw a sign in front of a pet shop,
"20% Off All Puppies & Kittens," and you slapped
three security guards before they got you safely contained in
the manager's office.
Questions
Dogs Ask God
Dear
God, how come people love to smell flowers, but seldom if ever
smell one another? Where are their priorities?
Dear
God, when we get to heaven, can we sit on your couch? Or is
it the same old story?
Dear
God, if a dog barks his head off in the forest and no human
hears him, is he still a bad dog?
Dear
God, is it true that in heaven, dining room tables have on ramps?
Dear
God, if we come back as humans, is that good, or bad?
Dear
God, more meatballs, less spaghetti please.
Dear
God, when we get to the pearly gates, do we have to shake hands
to get in?
Dear
God, we dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand
signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent IDs, electromagnetic
energy fields, and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?
Dear
God, are there dogs on other planets or are we alone? I have
been howling at the moon and stars for a long time, but all
I ever hear back is the poodle across the street!
Dear
God, is it true that dogs are not allowed in restaurants because
we can't make up our minds what NOT to order? Or is it
the carpet thing, again?
Dear
God, are there mailmen in heaven? If there are, will I have
to apologize?
| If
you're up to it, with all due respect to his loving owners
...
 |
