I adopted a dog a few months ago courtesy of the Jeff Tarpley Rescue in Texarkana, TX. His story is heart breaking: He was thrown from a moving pickup truck at a Wal-Mart gas station and started heading for an incredibly busy road. Luckily, a good Samaritan noticed this little guy running for dear life and caught him, brought him to the local vet, and they contacted Jeff. (And I swear, if I had more money, I would be throwing a ton of it at him - Jeff is a saint, and one of the most decent human beings I have ever met). Needless to say, adopting Wally (yes, after the Sox mascot) has been one of the most rewarding events of my life. He brings me so much joy and happiness (I know, gay!), but he makes me laugh at all the things he does.
You see, Wally is still in puppy phase; he can't be older than 18 months. He is full of energy, cries when I leave for work, and won't leave my side. I can't imagine my life without him now.
Now, you are probably wondering: why is Blasdel writing about his dog. This isn't nearly as funny as it could be. Well, I am not there yet. I will share today's random musing with you, now!
I got home from work tonight, only to be met by my landlord, who quickly informed me "He cried a lot today." Shit! Just what I need... to be the guy who makes his dog cry by going to work. So, of course, I am embarrassed and walk into the house to check on the little guy. As soon as I turn the corner, it is like CHAOS has hit my freshly cleaned apartment. Wally broke free of the kitchen "play room" (read: cage) and tore the house apart. Food and water dishes, completely turned over; couch cover off the couch and balled on the floor; ironing board (and iron) tipped over. FUCKING CHAOS! So of course, as the gay parent, I pick him up to make sure there are no scares, cuts, lesions - and he is fine. But he is whimpering. SHIT! As soon as I go to get the phonebook to call the vet, he jumps out of my arms, onto the couch and is barking his head off, jumping up on the top of the couch and sniffing toward the floor. GREAT - I have a mouse! That's all I am thinking. So panic turns into frustration and I, very gayly I might add, pull the couch away from the wall and look - and Wally goes darting!
In his frenzy, his favorite toy was "lost" behind the couch. F.M.L. All this chaos for a friggin chew toy.
They say dogs keep you younger. I say BULLSHIT! Now I know why I am losing my hair and going grey. Sadly, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. If you are looking to be charitable, give to your local animal rescue, and if you want a pet - adopt! These guys are awesome. I saw a bumper sticker today that had a paw print which read "who rescued who?" Truer words could not be said!
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