Remember how I said that Katy Perry named “Roar” after me? Well, it turns out Kelly Clarkson wrote “Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You)” for me. It’s my new anthem.
Where to begin? Shall I start with my traumatic experience at the groomer just days before Thanksgiving, when the human torturer giddily tried to pluck the hair from my ear? Or the emergency visit to the vet later that same day because said groomer convinced my human mom that I had an ear infection? Or the invasion of my house for four days by my human aunt and uncle and their puny, yet oh so scary, dogs? Or the fact that I came this close to getting kicked out of the house for growling at and biting my human mom when she tried to remove contraband from my mouth? Or that I came even closer to getting kicked out of the house after biting my favorite Sophie for trying to get a sock out of my mouth? There’s so much drama to choose from, I’ll just share all of my stories with you.
It’s official. I hate going to the groomer. I hate it so much that I wouldn’t even care if I became completely matted and had to be shaved. There’s this awesome Pixar cartoon called Boundin’. It’s the story of a sheep who gets shorn and loses his confidence, only to gain it back thanks to the frenzied bounding of a whimsical creature called a jackalope who teaches the sheep to feel better about himself. Well, unlike the sheep, I have no shortage of self-confidence. But that sheep was cuter bald than he was with his fleece. And I’m sure I’d be adorable, too. But I digress. The groomer tried to remove my ear hair and it hurt like holy hell. I didn’t let her come near the other ear and I left that place feeling miserable, only to realize that things were much worse than I thought when I arrived at the vet.
I used to like going to the vet. Until the ear episode, everyone in the vet’s office treated me like royalty. And then the magic spell was forever broken when they took me to an exam room and tried to look inside my poor ear. There’s no need to go into detail except to say that I didn’t let them near me. Infection or no infection, no one was going touch my ears, let alone look inside them. Did I have an infection? I didn’t feel infected. My ears may be dirty sometimes but they don’t bother me and I haven’t gone deaf. And I actually allow my human mom to clean them. Yes, my ear was irritated. But whose ear wouldn’t be irritated after having all the hair plucked out of it? I was so incredibly agitated that the vet had to put a muzzle on me.To add insult to injury, they also shot me up with the rabies vaccine and it went downhill from there.
Ok, I’m not one of those anti-vaccine dogs who vehemently claim that vaccines cause horrible illnesses. But let me tell you, a couple of days after the vet gave me the rabies vaccine, I acted like I had rabies. Yes, they said it was a killed virus, but maybe it wasn’t 100% killed, you know?
I was merrily chewing on something that wasn’t mine when human mom went to grab it, just like she’s done with most every other inappropriate object I’ve chewed before. Except this time, my eyes got big. I bared my teeth and growled. And when she put her hand on the contraband, my teeth clamped down. She was not happy. The same thing happened a few days later with my favorite Sophie, except this time my teeth clamped down on her arm. I couldn’t help it.
Sophie has a book called “Sometimes I’m Bombaloo.” I love that book. It describes a little girl who has temper tantrums, and uses her feet and fists instead of words. Needless to say, I went “bombaloo” and used my jaw instead of my brain. After the incident with Sophie, I thought human mom would go “bombaloo,” too. In fact, when she found out about my psychotic behavior, I had an epiphany. I realized that she loves Sophie more than me. And that even though she loves me most of the time, she doesn’t love me unconditionally like she loves Sophie, Chloe and my human dad. Which means that I’m at the bottom of the love totem pole. Which means I’m in big trouble if I don’t get my act together.
That was tough medicine to swallow.
Crazy Dog Cousins
Thora and Temba. The family thought it was cute to refer to us as the “Three Ts” or “T Cubed.” Gag me with a spoon. Thora is 10 pounds of King Charles spaniel. Temba is 15 pounds of Tibetan spaniel. Of the two, Thora was much more fun. After two days, she and I became friends. Temba was jealous. He had the nerve to try to attack me a few times. He has an underbite that makes him look a little creepy and scary, which I guess is good for him because without those funky teeth, he’d just be another cutesy lap dog. Anyway, I was a little sad (not too sad, mind you) when Thora left. But I was doing a jig when Temba left. Good riddance, dude.
All Is Not Lost
Hell, it could be a lot worse. I could be Robert Redford stranded all alone in the middle of the ocean on a lifeboat. It’s been a trying few weeks, I tell you. But despite the obstacles, I am still Super Truffle and I am extremely resilient (and adorable). I’d like to end this post on a positive note, so here goes nothing:
(1) I am now a pro at “roll over” and “hi-paw,” all thanks to Sophie, who still loves me despite my nastiness towards her the other day.
(2) Human mom switched me to a new dog food, Orijen Puppy, which is so incredibly delectable I could eat the whole bag in one gulp. And I digest it a lot better than the food I used to eat.
(3) When the crazy cousin dogs were here, I was allowed to spend more time in the living room than usual. I really loved it. If I behave, I think human mom may allow me to hang out there more often.
(4) I met my human uncle who is the coolest human uncle ever. He ran around the yard with me and acted like a dog. He knew just how to play with me. I miss him a lot. I overheard my human mom tell him that if I continued to misbehave she might ship me to Austin, Texas to live with him. I know she was joking, because she was laughing when she said it. Besides, I cuddle with her all the time, which I know she loves since Sophie doesn’t cuddle with her like she used to.
(5) My human mom, in an effort to find new things for me to chew on that don’t involve human skin, gave me a cow’s hoof for the first time. It stinks like raw sewage, but it is so delicious I’d hump it if it wasn’t so small.
(6) Speaking of humping, I’ve discovered the joys of it. I still have no idea what I’m doing or what I should be humping, except I now know that humping my human’s mom leg is not considered acceptable canine behavior.
Until next time, my friends.