PAWS TO CELEBRATE

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (04-06-23)- Please remember small business in your town during this coronavirus pandemic

 
     Last week was National Puppy Day, and I would have forgotten all about it if someone hadn't stuck their pointy nose in a place where some of the best reminding is done. Our puppy, the ever-adorable Gidget, is not really a puppy at all, but a full-grown dog who refuses to act her age. I don't know where she gets that from, but it can't be from my side of the family.

     I adopted Gidget at the age of three months from a wonderful breeder outside of Toronto. I know you're thinking that's rather young, but it was Gidget who was three months old, not me. We had to sneak her through Customs, which required her to be six months. I rolled down the window for the Customs agent, who was checking inside the car, thinking he might be starring in a real-life "Midnight Express." He looked around and noticed four suitcases for a weekend trip (less luggage than usual actually). Maybe it was 400 kilos of Canadian Gold and maybe I was a mule. Does a mule have to be over six months old to enter the U.S.? "What's in the bags?" He asked, and I didn't bat an eyelash. "What bags?" 

     By this time Gidget was getting restless, and starting to yip from her crate in the back covered with a blanket. I opened my mouth every time she yipped, so that the agent would think the noise was coming from me. Still not batting an eyelash but yipping incessantly, I just pretended everything was normal for a non-blinking guy with the yiccups. He looked me in the eye: "Anything to declare?" I said, "Well, I'm traveling ALONE, so I guess that's a declaration of independence, ha ha ha ha ha ha." I wasn't going to make it easy for him. "What's in that crate under the blanket?" He asked. "IT'S MY DOG! SHE'S THREE MONTHS OLD!" I blurted out. He showed a look of abject disappointment at the prospects of a major drug bust and a quick promotion with an early retirement fading and said, "Oh. You can go."

     I wanted to get her a Puppy Day gift but I couldn't think of anything she really needs. She has more than enough toys. She already has a squirrel, a moose,  a snake, a lamb, a skunk, a fox, a thing that looks like a stuffed coronavirus and an opossum (actually the opossum might be real). I could have gotten her a new flea and tick collar, but as a gift that's like giving somebody a pair of orthopedic shoes.

     So I gave Gidget a spa day at the beauty parlor, and she got her hair cut and styled and a mani/pedi. It took them a few minutes to work out which set of paws was the mani and which was the pedi. Gidget does not need to get her hair colored because she is a natural redhead. Yes, I've heard all the rumors about redheads, that they can be "fiery," or "difficult," or "hot-tempered," or that they get more ticks than usual. But these are just myths. It's been my experience that not one of these myths isn't totally not untrue. And I'm banking on the myth that most redheads will not have the patience to try and unravel that sentence.

     But Gidget is the exact opposite of these fair-haired falsehoods, because she doesn't try to boss me around by standing up and staring at me until she gets what she wants. And she doesn't try to win my affection by winking at me. And she doesn't go on a hunger strike until the dinner menu changes. Okay, I guess she doesn't NOT do those things, but on her they seem like adorable character traits. It is true that she doesn't like to stay in the sun too long. 

     She is already well-groomed anyway. I spend a couple minutes' time each day brushing Gidget's hair, or approximately 300-times more than I spend on my own. Well, it turns out that going to the beauty parlor was not as fun for her as I thought it would be, and she was seething mad at me when she got home. I tried to make it up to her and asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. When I found her three hours later I told her that I meant WITH me.

     And Gidget has been the perfect companion. To me she is a much better choice than say, a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. If your dog retrieves just one of those you'll have to move. I didn't want a toy dog, although it would cost less to feed. I didn't want a Bouvier des Flandres, pour des raisons évidentes. I thought briefly of a Schnauzer, and all the schnauzing we might do together. But in the end I settled for the perfect dog. So happy Puppy Day, Gidget!