The Power Of The Dog
O.K., O.K., I have no idea what came over me;
Jane and I got a dog.
A $500 miniature poodle.
It’s not a dog really; it’s more like
a big mouse with a perm.
And we named him “Boo” Sometimes "Mr. Boo".
I’m my dog’s vet best new friend. Jeezus, I’ve already paid for a trip to Tahiti for him and his wife and it’s only been three months!
Boo was being stupid one day, running all over the place like a junkyard rat, and he knocked himself out running into a post! Everyone’s setting their hair on fire and going nuts. I drove him to the vet after a frantic phone call from Jane, and got him checked and everything’s hunky-dory...except...while we’re here anyway, let’s look after business and be safe.
Examination, X-rays, shots,
check for this, check for that and cheque for vet.
They’re always glad to see you, no matter how pissed off they are at you.
They will rip your furniture to pieces and you will chase them around the house with a 2x4 literally trying to kill them, and they think it’s a game.
Puppy classes or training a puppy. Let’s be clear here. You are NOT training a puppy. The object of this exercise is to train YOU, the dog owner to do minimal damage to the dog.
Dogs. They have an effect on us, we personalize them, we eulogize them, we love them. Kipling nailed it here.
The Power
of the Dog
by
Rudyard Kipling
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.
Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.
When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.
When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.
We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?
The Power of the Dog
by
Rudyard Kipling
I still can’t completely wrap my head around walking after my dog with face mask, rubber gloves, and plastic bag, picking up after Boo. I think I found the solution.
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