A Prince among Dogs by Callie Smith Grant

Author:Callie Smith Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: PET004000, NAT024000, REL036000
ISBN: 9781441236951
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2007-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

And You Think Your Dog’s Smart?

Nancy Jo Eckerson

I have always been amazed at pet owners and their insane attitudes toward their animals. I myself had never really owned a pet until recently. I say never really because I did find a turtle near the creek one summer and brought it home. I set up a turtle-arium in a wheelbarrow with lots of water, some great climbing rocks, and grass clippings for “Ted” to munch on. The first night of our life together proved to be our last (sigh). Ted jumped ship and took off into the night. I took this as a sign that I was not a natural for pet ownership. I suppose the real blessing here was that he did bail out on me, because they say that people tend to take on the appearance of their pets.

Honestly, I can never relate to the “my pet does ten tricks and I haven’t even trained him” types. And people who let their dogs and cats lick them are from another planet. How could that be safe? I mean, you know what else they lick? Ugh.

Another one of my pet peeves—people who talk to their animals as if they’re their offspring.

“Come to Mommy.”

“Fetch Daddy the newspaper.”

“It’s not nice to bite your sister!”

“Daddy loves you, pookie ookums!”

Give me a break. I have yet to see any maternity wards for humans filled with puppies or kittens or baby gerbils.

Well, like I said, I was safe and sound, standing my ground firmly until a short time ago. Then I succumbed to family pressure. Before I could finish saying “Maybe . . .” we were homeward bound with a chocolate-colored standard poodle and about $500 worth of doggie toys, food, and a mansion-sized crate.

Nonetheless, I was bound and determined to remain strong. I knew that this critter would change our lives, but I would limit it to sensible changes. I would simply order the dog to do what I wanted. Not a problem.

Fortunately for all concerned, we happened to get the sweetest, most cooperative, and most intelligent puppy in the litter. Tallulah—we named her after the gorgeous actress Tallulah Bankhead—was the epitome of excellence.

She was so well potty trained that she would just bite my hand to let me know that she needed to go out. I adjusted well and found designer Band-Aids to match nearly every blouse I owned.

She was pro-Nancy too, totally into protecting my “image” around town. If I unwittingly put on a not-so-stunning outfit, Tallulah would just jump up on me, covering me with mud. I would run upstairs to change and suddenly realize how right she was. That color was just not me, the hem was a tad long, or I had made some other fashion faux pas.

One day I came home from work to find Tallulah had somehow reached our dinner napkin holder and shredded all the paper napkins. The kitchen floor was covered with them—under the table, under the dog crate, all around the stove and sink. I saw red, but as I knelt to start the tedious task at hand, I noticed the floor was filthy.

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