“It had to happen,” thought mom wryly.
Such is her luck that not one, but both her friends who watched me whenever the humans went on vacation, relocated. Both families packed their bags, sold their homes and left the country, forever.
“We should also move to India,” said mom to dad, envisioning a charmed NRI life in a luxury apartment with a cook, a nanny, a maid and a chauffer at her beck and call. However, images of slithering, beady-eyed lizards and inadequate indoor plumbing filled her mind in the next instant, and she quickly recanted her statement.
“We can always go for a visit,” suggested dad.
As the children yelled in glee, mom, the party pooper, asked, “And where would we leave Terri?”
At $20 a night, kennels are an expensive option. Besides, the last time I stayed in one, I came home with diarrhea.
Mom pointed to the once-yellow-now-black-with-age spots on the carpet after my last visit, and reminded dad about my explosive anal ejaculations that lasted four days. (And not one to let an opportunity slide by, mom also brought up the fact that the carpets REALLY needed replacing. And while they were at it, perhaps they could gut the kitchen and completely remodel it, as well. And, maybe, add another room in the back, and turn the patio into a sunroom. And would dad like to hear about her plans for the backyard….?)
“Anyway, I can’t leave my Terri in a cage for three weeks, even if they watch him for free,” said mom, kissing the tip of my nose.
She presumes that since she wouldn’t like to spend time in a cage, I wouldn’t like to, either. Somehow, the same reasoning doesn’t apply to furniture or pizza. I’ve been sternly told that the couches are off limits, and only constant whining and staring will score me a measly slice of pizza.
Mom is now on the lookout for a local ‘nutcase’ like her to trade dog-sitting duties. A like-minded individual who doggedly ignores barbs from petless people, such as:
“Your priorities are screwed up, you know?”
“You should have thought of this before you brought the dog home.”
“You’re nicer to that dog than you are to me.”
“What? You’re leaving the party early because your dog’s alone at home?”
“Please! He’s a dog; treat him like one!”
Know what I mean?
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
All Hail the VIP (Very Important Pet)
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13 comments:
Ya, I know! No one but the royal couple treats the royal canine in a manner befitting the royal pet! Yes, them and the people who know you. Btw, we love the footer on each of your posts in your RSS/Atom feed.
You certainly provide us with answers to certain existential questions. One of these days we will find the meaning of life too, we are sure!
Btw, would your mom mind if we write about the royal pet on our blog for Blog day 2006?
anantha, why drag mom into this? When she doesn't want to give a straight answer, she'll say, "Paarkalam." Supremely annoying, I tell you.
We (the royal we) hereby grant you permission to stoke our imperial ego any which way you want.
Aaah.. I did not realise that you are Terri like Terry Franona, who's the Red Sox's GM. The use of "i" instead of the "y" caused this error. Feel free to delete this comment after you read. Now you know whyineedthisfino! :p
Terri, if you lived in London, I would have dog sat you.
Thanks, MG. It's so difficult to find desis who like dogs. Most have had traumatic experiences being chased by rabid mongrels, it seems. Those poor curs give as they get, so we can't blame them.
Well I'm a desi who is really crazy about dogs, and so is my husband. I wish you could post Terri to me.
came here from anantha's. He usually only reads women bloggers :-))).....
MG: I hope you guys will adopt soon, in that case. There are so many homeless dogs and you both have love in your hearts....
tilotamma: Are you implying anantha has good taste? ;)
Tilo: :O
Hi,
Came here thro 3 nomads. I totally love this post - i have a golden who is 5 years old and often have issues finding dog sitters :) He is definelty our "all important" family member.
Very good reading in your blog :)
--Vaishnavi
Hi Terri - Read this link to know a little about me before further reading.
I am from the Royal house of Merries. I saw your comment on Ginga's blog.
Nice to know that other royalty exists in the world elsewhere too. You sure look Royal.
Well, if you choose to call your slaves Mum and Dad (euphemisms) then I guess it your own choice, but I prefer to keep my slaves as slaves. :)
I've found that a long glare with with limpid black eyes, with a prostrate position on the floor is sufficient to discipline any slave.
I like your blog and will look at it in the next few days.
PS: Dont allow your slaves to leave you when they go anywhere, that's what I do ;). Maybe in your case travelling cross country will be a problem, but for me I am truely the Princess of the family.
I have ostracised the families and relatives of my slaves, so they cannot come even if they want to.
Woof, woof
C'ya
Psst Terri -That wasn't me you see, because I'm incognito, I posted my brother's photo. *grin*
Ah, cute and crafty! A deadly combination. No wonder you have slaves at your bidding.
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