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I am the Barkslope.com Dog of the Month for August 2005. Check me out at http://barkslope.com/dogofthemonth.html

Gotta jet...

9.28.04 - They call this a vacation?

So, my parents went away for the weekend, leaving me in a 6x8 cage with nothing but the troublemaker for company. The so-called "Petshotel" at PetsMart is nothing but a tease, a ruse for those less intelligent, of less discerning tastes, than I. At first I was thrilled that they were taking me to PetsMart, where derriere-sniffing and treats abound, where I can yank my mom around to my heart's content. But - a slight steer to the left, large glass doors...what is this? I dug my heels into the ground, fighting against the injustice of it all.

My little brother, simple as he is, recognized my fear and responded with a sympathetic tail placed between his legs. A fat lot of good that did me. And then I was off -- dragged through the locked doors and into a kennel that is far beneath my dignity. Don't they *know* that I do not sleep on the floor, that I do not accept treats that aren't up to par, that I do not like to share space with my own feces? It was a maddening torture, broken only by the twice-daily walks that allowed me a glimpse into the civilized world.

But they returned, my mom and dad, and not a moment too soon. Finally, I was whisked back home, where mom immediately recognized how unhappy I was with the smells I'd acquired over the past few days. I had a glorious bath in apple-scented shampoo, and retired to my place on the couch with a large greenie to clean any remaining bacteria from my teeth. I chased my brother around the house to ensure that he understood we were no longer equals, despite having shared a similar fate in the past few days. Finally, I jumped into my freshly-laundered bed, the one my parents are always trying to climb into (don't they know it's mine???) and drifted off, glad that the world, once again, had righted itself.