February 20, 2008
No, no.we definitely didn't get another dog. Don't get me wrong, I love my greyhound slightly more than I love my husband, and I fully intend to add to the collection someday, but right now she's more than enough to keep me joyful, busy, and satisfied. Gracie would happily hurl herself from a fifty foot cliff for the sake of a single kibble, and believe you me, it takes quite a bit of effort on my part to curb that type of enthusiasm.
In the last seven days, Gracie has not let us down. She's performed at least three exotic stunts--just like she always does. On Wednesday morning she used her thirteen-inch nose to pry open a childproofed cabinet door and eat half a ton of chicken bones out of the kitchen garbage can. On Sunday, around three o'clock in the morning, Gracie slipped and fell down an entire flight of hardwood stairs, leaving a trail of blood that was reminiscent of a murder scene (on my in-law's carpet, of course). And last night she ate an entire loaf of Italian bread--paper wrapper and all--off the top of the refrigerator.
The chicken bone thing was annoying, the stair thing was completely sad, and I can't lie, I'm about to sew a superman cape to the back of her fleece jacket, because the bread thing was totally awesome. Think about it--we usually can't move this dog off the couch with dynamite, but for the lure of refined carbohydrates and simple sugars, Gracie got off the couch, jumped six feet in the air, and snagged a loaf of bread with nothing but her teeth. I've seen her go to the same lengths for Oreo cookies, birthday cake, and a five-pound bag of Idaho potatoes.
I aspire to do similar things.
I'll be honest--I could do without the long, constant flow of gas that she's been squeaking out since 2004, but other than that, this dog is awesome and I find myself giving her high-fives every single day.
Other fabulous animals of my past have included: Skippy, the painted turtle who scaled the wall of a baby pool and ran away (devastating, yet remarkable); Holiday, the three-foot long iguana who relocated to Florida in a Rubbermaid container and now resides with my cousin (an all around good move); and Rocky, the fifteen-year-old terrier who continues to bite ankles with the best of 'em.
So tell me.do you have a pet? What's his name? And obviously, what are your pet's primary points of awesomeness?
Have a great day everyone!