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This post is inspired by
5.) Draw a picture that best represents one of your most recent tweets and share it with us.
I will spare you my drawing skills and do a comic instead. And yes this tweet was send via an old Blackberry. I am so retro.
This morning I was tweeting back and forth with Vicki about my very cool dog. Of course I was, as always, grateful for having Big M. Vicki is a super cool, wanna be her, kind of blogger that I stalk. That is why I get a little giddy when she seeks my opinion. Reading her blog you will understand why. So CLICK away.
As I was saying ( sure at least two hours elapsed since you ditched me to read Victacular), we were on the subject of getting a dog. I have one, she wants one. Let me explain to you why I am a subject matter expert:
Ever since I can remember I wanted a dog. My grandma was trying to persuade me a while ago to have more children. Being an only child myself, she was going to send me on a guilt trip with “remember how you always wanted a brother”. Yep, grandmas are slick like that and mine was trained by her mother. We have a long tradition in my family of annoying, manipulative women. I looked at her with pity, she must be loosing her touch.
“When did I ever ask for a sibling?!” I asked.
“True, all you ever wanted was a dog” my grandma admitted.
And she should know. At any given time I was bothering them for a puppy. I would work it into conversations, request for it as a birthday present and talk about it when I wasn’t begging for it. It must have worked, because they caved in and got me a parrot.
I know, I asked myself the same question. I wanted to like the parrot. But you cannot walk it or play fetch with it. Believe me, I tried. That is how one day it flew out of the opened kitchen window.
To replace the parrot, they bought me a turtle. I know, I am starting to see a trend here too. The turtle, in difference with the parrot, liked going for a walk. That is how one day it climbed out of the vivarium. Found her a few weeks later under my closet. We agreed it was for the best to donate her to the ZOO.
As if bird fiasco number one was not enough, I got a pair of lovebirds next. They were really in love. We had mad amount of eggs to prove it. The female finally gave up. I am not sure if she took her own life or suffered during egg laying. Male followed a few days later. Sadness, I presume.
You would think by now my grandparents would bite the bullet and get me a dog. No, next was a cat. That in all fairness stayed with us a few years. We thought he was male and called him Mickey. It would walk me to school every morning and come back to our 4th floor apartment every evening. But no matter how much the cat exercised, he kept getting bigger. Until one day we woke up to four kittens. Lucky for us Mickey was a fine name for a female too.
Once the kittens were old enough, mommy Mickey ran off with her lover. I kept one of her kittens. Who fell off the balcony. No, they don’t land on their paws. I can tell you that for sure, because a stray one I brought home a week later followed the same path into the abyss.
Surely with this unlucky streak of pets we were all going to give up the quest. AND BUY ME A DOG. No, I got a tank full of guppies. We installed a faulty water heater and woke up to a mass graveyard. And that was the day grandpa said I was getting a dog. Seven years and too many fallen pets later, I had a shaggy dog of my own!
He lived to be fourteen. He was my best friend. And my grandparent’s loyal companion.
What can I say, they should have bought me a dog in the first place.
So that is why I said to Vicki today when she starts negotiating for her Corgi to ask for a yak first. Then agree to settle for a pony. By the time they get to a small dog, she will seem reasonable to her husband. And if that tactic fails, I will be posting Top Ten Listicle on Monday just for them, about how Big M is the coolest dog ever. Then she can laminate it and pop it on the fridge. That is sure to seal the deal. Stay tuned.
This post was linked to Lovelinks #11.