He was a scruffy dog, born into a poor family. Yet inside his little heart, Fido yearned to find out what lay beyond his bedraggled homestead. Born on the wrong side of the tracks, it didn’t deter him from wanting to make new friends no matter the class or pedigree.
Free at last from his ramshackle home, he wandered into the best section of town. Stately homes and highly coiffed pets abounded. He wondered what it would like to make friends not from the Hoi polloi but from some upper class female dogs. “‘Hot’ dogs to him,” he thought.
Approaching a sprawling mansion with two stunning poodles under a portico, he bounded up to the first one and said breathlessly and full of excitement, “Hi, I’m Fido. what’s your name.” The first with a pink ribbon in her hair spouted back with dripping disdain, “My name is Mimi…M- I-M- I! Shocked by her incivility he said to the second one with a blue ribbon wrapped around her head, “Hi, I’m Fido, what’s your name?” Not to be outdone by the other with impertinence she scowled, FiFi, F-I-F-I!
Together as if on cue they said, “How do you spell your name?” To which he replied with an air of confidence, “Fido, P-H-Y-D-I-O-U-X.”
The joke may be old but society has bought into the notion, that not all dogs are created equal. I was in the grocery store this week and found myself on the pet food aisle. Imagine my surprise in seeing a refrigerator and freezer section specifically for dogs. Fresh ground meats and of all things, Ice Cream bar treats for dogs; no lie. I didn’t catch any names on the food labels but dare we call the ice cream “Pupsicles?”
Thomas Tusser a 16th century English Poet and farmer coined the phrase, “A fool and his money are soon parted.” How can I be foolish enough to believe canine’s have impeccable taste buds when a majority of the time their noses are glued to their south end or another dog’s caboose? Wouldn’t this disgusting habit pretty much tell us everything we need to know about doggy taste buds? Which is, they’ll eat anything!
Some years ago a car hit a deer outside our home in Kentucky and it was flung down an embankment across from our home. Despite everything I tried to do to keep our dog from crossing the country road and gnawing on a body part, I failed. One day she came to the back sliding glass door and proudly showed me a kneecap to hoof leg intact. It was from that point on she only got dog food that started with the word “Old”. Nothing but the second best for my dog.
Who are we trying to kid? People are so addicted to wanting to be liked, they can’t even imagine their pet not liking them. So we see commercials where cats are fed food by butlers from platters, and dogs receiving fresh meat that costs more per pound than a rib eye. A word to the wise, if only the best will do for your pet, why do pets always beg under our tables? Maybe it’s their lack of self esteem!
Okay honey, let’s take them to the doggy psychiatrist. It should be a piece of cake too; they’re already acclimated to being on a couch.