There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


The Life and Times of Katy

Hey, Diaryland. What up with your server? That would never happen in Dairyland.

Today I got to demonstrate the only part of driving that I'm good at. I can parallel park like a mofo. One time, reverse, turn, slide on in, 6 inches from the curb. Oh, yeah. Barry White should be playing in the background when I parallel park because it feels just like good lovin. Rowrrr.

I'm taking kittens to the vet today to get them poked with needles. ME-OW! Their momma won't like that. Or maybe she will, since they are still constantly bugging her for some titty and she is sick of them.

Flashback: My old Chihuahua, Lucy, died at the ripe old age of 18ish. I know that she was that old because I had her since she was one month old. She was from the animal shelter I worked at, and we had busted a crazy old puppy mill lady who had 53 Chihuahuas. They were all bald (from scratching fleas) and scrawny and unsocialized because she'd kept them all in cages. So there was one puppy (Lucy) and no one could figure out which mom she went with, so I just took her home. She lasted longer than my marriage to the human nosebleed.

So anyway, when she died I was sad and it took me a while before I wanted to get another dog. Greg finally said, "Time for another dog!" And so it was done. We went to the Animal Defense League and took a look at some critters. They had a lot of critters that I liked, but there was one who was extra sweet. Her little card said that she had been brought to the ADL from the city pound (seconds from the gas chamber!) and that's all anyone knew about her past. We walked her around, sat with her for a while, and stuff. So I took her home.

For the first week, she was soooo good. She was quiet and well-behaved and just plain good.

Then week 2 came along and she got bored.

So she started eating my stuff. Shoes, makeup, pens, furniture, couches, rugs, etc. Whatever there was, she would eat it. I would walk her for an hour every night to try to make her tired, but still, she ate my stuff.

So, it was clear to me that she needed another dog to play with.

to be continued...

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birth & death