Ya see that photo over there? You'll notice that there are two....count 'em TWO....dogs in that picture.
Pay no attention to the black dog in the background, because...quite frankly, he's the hero of our story.
Nope, today we will talk about the one in the foreground, the white one with the tan trimmings and the ears that make you go....
"Holy crap! What's up with them ears!"
Those belong to our 3rd dog....Jazz. She was a hurricane rescue a couple of years ago. There had been a big storm somewhere else in the country and we started reading the stories about how dogs from the hurricane site were being relocated to Ft Lauderdale with the hope that they would find good homes in this area. And so the plotting by my daughter and I began in earnest. My wife had already put up the "no more dogs!" sign and made it clear that the last thing we were getting was another dog.
Somehow, in all our weaselyness, my daughter and I convinced Kim to go to the Humane Society, ya know, just to "look around". If only I put the sort of effort involved in this situation into one that would make money, I'd be far better off than I am today! Anyway, so we took a trip down to the Humane Society, and after looking around and finding about 27 dogs that we liked, we settled on two. Now, it was important that the dog we were going to get be "cat friendly", because, to my everloving shame.....I also have two cats. Or should I say, the FAMILY has two cats. Me? I'm a dog guy. So the first dog was just a bit "cat aggresive", where as the other dog, the one that the volunteers were trying so hard to get us to adopt, was said to be "cat friendly". Famous last words.
We get the new dog, "Jazz" (what a horrible name), home and we go through all the steps as recommended by the local dog people--ya know---introducing the new dog to the other dogs OUTSIDE the home so the other dogs don't feel "threatened". Letting the other dogs walk into the house first so she isn't seen as "invading their territory". When did all this kind of stuff start? When did we begin to worry whether or not Fido was psychologically traumatized by a new guest at his home? Puh-leeze. So she walks into the house, sees the cats.....and immediately begins chasing them all over the house. So much for "cat friendly". I thought out cats were going to stroke out.
So let me tell you some other fascinating facts about our little Jazz. That's her name, but her other nicknames include: Jazzy, Snazzy, Mooch (the dog is ALWAYS, and I mean ALWAYS around when someone is in the kitchen---its like she feels its her God given right to be there) and "pretty girl"---obviously that is not MY name for her...that's what the wife calls her. Oh, and besides the whole mooching thing...here's something else.
She farts. A lot. And I mean to tell you....they are d-e-a-d-l-y. We'll be watching t.v., and there she is, just laying on the floor in front of us and all of a sudden....
"Oh God! Did something die in here? Did.....oh! JAZZ!!!"
And she'll give you this look like she has no idea what's going on. But don't kid yourself. She knows.
Oh, and the wife? The one person in the family who didn't want another dog? Jazz is now "her dog".
Women....they always stick together.
Later,
Jeff
Pay no attention to the black dog in the background, because...quite frankly, he's the hero of our story.
Nope, today we will talk about the one in the foreground, the white one with the tan trimmings and the ears that make you go....
"Holy crap! What's up with them ears!"
Those belong to our 3rd dog....Jazz. She was a hurricane rescue a couple of years ago. There had been a big storm somewhere else in the country and we started reading the stories about how dogs from the hurricane site were being relocated to Ft Lauderdale with the hope that they would find good homes in this area. And so the plotting by my daughter and I began in earnest. My wife had already put up the "no more dogs!" sign and made it clear that the last thing we were getting was another dog.
Somehow, in all our weaselyness, my daughter and I convinced Kim to go to the Humane Society, ya know, just to "look around". If only I put the sort of effort involved in this situation into one that would make money, I'd be far better off than I am today! Anyway, so we took a trip down to the Humane Society, and after looking around and finding about 27 dogs that we liked, we settled on two. Now, it was important that the dog we were going to get be "cat friendly", because, to my everloving shame.....I also have two cats. Or should I say, the FAMILY has two cats. Me? I'm a dog guy. So the first dog was just a bit "cat aggresive", where as the other dog, the one that the volunteers were trying so hard to get us to adopt, was said to be "cat friendly". Famous last words.
We get the new dog, "Jazz" (what a horrible name), home and we go through all the steps as recommended by the local dog people--ya know---introducing the new dog to the other dogs OUTSIDE the home so the other dogs don't feel "threatened". Letting the other dogs walk into the house first so she isn't seen as "invading their territory". When did all this kind of stuff start? When did we begin to worry whether or not Fido was psychologically traumatized by a new guest at his home? Puh-leeze. So she walks into the house, sees the cats.....and immediately begins chasing them all over the house. So much for "cat friendly". I thought out cats were going to stroke out.
So let me tell you some other fascinating facts about our little Jazz. That's her name, but her other nicknames include: Jazzy, Snazzy, Mooch (the dog is ALWAYS, and I mean ALWAYS around when someone is in the kitchen---its like she feels its her God given right to be there) and "pretty girl"---obviously that is not MY name for her...that's what the wife calls her. Oh, and besides the whole mooching thing...here's something else.
She farts. A lot. And I mean to tell you....they are d-e-a-d-l-y. We'll be watching t.v., and there she is, just laying on the floor in front of us and all of a sudden....
"Oh God! Did something die in here? Did.....oh! JAZZ!!!"
And she'll give you this look like she has no idea what's going on. But don't kid yourself. She knows.
Oh, and the wife? The one person in the family who didn't want another dog? Jazz is now "her dog".
Women....they always stick together.
Later,
Jeff
1 comment:
I want everyone to know that she became "my" dog because the author of this blog likes to play favorites with his pets....and there are 2 other dogs that take precedence over the newest member. Someone has to stick up for the little people and it might as well be me! BUt I do love them all, especially the cats!
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