Saturday, August 22, 2009

Dog Days of Vegas

So, this is how it goes down. My wife and daughter see this dog at a pet store and fall in love with it. When I come, they want to show me the dog. I'm thinking, "Oh God - not a dog, anything but a dog or a cat." We used to have guinea pigs and my daughter promised she'd clean the cage, but guess who got stuck with the job - yep me.

We get to the pet store and they show me the dog. It's a Lhasa Apso. Now, I have a plan to not get the dog. I turn to the store manger (a short German lady) and say, "Hey, Fraulein - I hear these dogs come from puppy mills."

She's get a bit angry at me "I'm a married woman and no these puppies are certified by (some agency) and guaranteed not to come from a puppy mill. I would never sell a dog from one of those places."

"Does this dog have any diseases? I know these puppies come loaded with diseases.", I ask.

"Absolutely not." She has this offended look. "They are checked by a vet each week."

Yea right - By this time, my wife and daughter are playing with the puppy and then my daughter turns to me and gives me that sad lip. What is it about daughters? Drives me crazy.

We purchased the dog. I won't say how much cost - I'm too embarrassed.

(Sorry, had to leave to go pet the dog. Now, I'm back)

She's a cute little dog, but I'm a grumpy man and I just don't like animals. Not that I would ever harm an animal. I think animals have just as much a right to happiness as human animals do. But go be happy far away from me.

I take Daisy (my daughter named the dog) to vet and sure enough the dog has parasites. I have to feed this drug to her every night now. The dog also has separation anxiety and is overly protective of her food. The vet assures me the dog came from a puppy mill.

Okay, even with these problems - I admit it, the dog has grown on me a bit. I have a condition where I'm in pain most of the time. I don't take any narcotics - don't like being doped up. So, the pain makes me sort of irritable and grumpy. But the puppy is always in a good mood and wants me to be in a good mood. Why are dogs so optimistic? And damn it all, the dog cheers me up.

Today, the little dog backed down a feral cat. I guess these little dogs used to guard temples in Tibet. She dug in her front paws, hunched her shoulders and gave out a tiny, little bark. The cat retreated about twenty feet, hissed and ran away. I was kinda proud.

Anyway, this long, overdone story was to talk about animals. I can't understand what hell Michael Vick was thinking. How do you raise a puppy and then let it get its throat ripped out in some dog fight? What the hell did the dog do? Now that I have a dog, I realize what a douche bag, Vick is. I'm an agnostic, but if there is a hell, you're going straight down.

Look, I'm not an animal rights advocate. I know that we got eat, which means animals got to die. But I do think that an animal should have a whole bunch good days and then one bad day. There's no reason (other than money) why an animal has got to suffer day after day. So what, if I got to pay an extra dollar for the chicken breast. Let them run free.

Also, if you're going to hunt and I understand if you need the meat to eat, then eat what you kill. F*%k Sarah Palin. It's a real sport shooting wolves and polar bears from a helicopter. In my uniformed opinion is she's a perverted, nasty skank. She even has a couched from from a bear skin. The bear's head was made into an arm rest. I swear I will move to Holland if she becomes president.

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