I can't go anywhere and talk about my baby puppy without whoever, (and I do mean just about everybody), saying something like,
"But what about FurGirl? How is FurGirl doing? All you ever talk about is Tallulah, Tallulah, Tallulah." (<---to be spoken with Marcia, Marcia, Marcia inflection.)
Honestly, people. Do I seem to you like the kind of person that would neglect her dog?
Okay, don't answer that.
I'll just give you the straight dope for the record.
First, FurGirl (real name: Isabelle) continues to live the Life of Riley. In the summer, she lounges in air conditioned splendor. In cooler temperatures, she lollygags in my toasty warm hideaway on plush carpet. She has a large, expensive, fluffy dog bed and an endless supply of Milk Bone Dog Biscuits in size small.
Aha!, you say. Why are the Milk Bones "small" when FurGirl is most definitely NOT small?
Well, I'll tell you, while Tallulah is a big dog in a little body? FurGirl is a size XL dog who thinks she is a petite flower. I raised her from puppy hood to be a lap dog. This worked out fine when she was a baby and would actually fit in my lap. As she grew larger, however, FurGirl somehow stayed small mentally and continued to leap deftly into my lap each day and catch a few z's and think of herself as a lap dog.
At the time, I was in possession of large leather furniture that looked like it came out of the ranch house on Bonanza, so when FurGirl reached adulthood, my big leather chair would still accommodate her 80-lb highness in my lap, albeit with 75% of her hanging off both sides, her chin resting comfortably on one ridiculously tall, wildly over sized leather side arm.
I bought FurGirl her first box of Large Milk Bones when she reached adulthood. The first time I treated her with one, you'd have thought I handed her a deep, fried turd. She let the biscuit slide off her tongue, once she realized its enormous size, and looked at me as if to say,
"You expect me to EAT this? I could LIVE IN ITS SHADOW, Lady."
She would have nothing to do with Large Milk Bones, and would accept HALF a
large Milk Bone only in the most dire of treating circumstances. I've never bought anything but size small since, and trust me, that's the way she likes it.
Lately own mother, if you can believe it, has actually become worried that poor Isabelle may not be getting the attention she deserves. Mom (located conveniently next door) has taken to handing out her dog, Dudley's, treats to Isabelle whenever she finds Isabelle looking pitiful and skulking about outside. As you might imagine, she finds Isabelle looking pitiful and skulking quite A LOT since she started handing out pity treats. It works out swimmingly for Isabelle, especially since Dudley, at a robust 12 pounds, is roughly the same size as Isabelle's mental image of herself and Dudley's itsy treats are just the thing to make a "dainty" Golden Retriever's day and reinforce her cross eyed body image.
As for how Isabelle has reacted to Tallulah's arrival? The same as any big sister who has enjoyed the spotlight for nearly seven years all to herself: not the greatest. Not many first and only babies look forward to giving up that position and FurGirl is no exception.
The adjustment period continues. But, I assure you, FurGirl is no less loved even if she does have to occassionally play second fiddle to a feisty, energetic, ruin sh!tting, allergy-ridden, Zyrtec taking, and, most recently, dirt eating, Westie puppy.
2 comments:
Ah, yes. The high-maintenance days of puppyhood versus the less-demanding joys of life with a mature and dear furkid. Hugs to Her Daintiness the Hon. Isabelle, from a fan in Colorado.
Ok, you are right, this has gone too far. Your are in denial. Now, not only is she neglected, but now she is mentally retarted with the maximum capacity of a 12 year old? Poor FurGirl, or Isabella, or NEGLECTED STEPCHILD!
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