Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Your Dog WHAT?

I saw an interesting bumper sticker today. It was on an expensive, late model Mercedes SUV along with several political bumper stickers: the driver's choice for the presidential election (twice on the rear and once on a side rear window), Congressional election and the local General Assembly election. There it was, bright red background and white letters: "My Dog Votes!"

Huh? I don't get it. I suppose I am not the brightest bulb in the box. Maybe I only have book smarts. I do have a rather twisted sense of humor. Despite that, I just don't get it.

I spent my entire drive to school thinking about this bumper sticker, all 15 minutes of it. Would you REALLY want your dog to vote? I certainly wouldn't. Though we love her, our dog is one of the stupidest creatures on earth. She's a 10 year old Labrador cross. WAY overweight, Casey resembles a keg with feet. Seriously. She's built low to the ground and is almost as wide as she is tall. For our last Halloween bash, we painted white marks on her and said she was dressed as a killer whale. I'm certainly not saying that fat people are stupid. I'm saying that this fat dog is stupid. We're absolutely convinced that what she hears in her head is the noise of a test pattern (eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewww). Maybe she hears the white noise of static. But certainly nothing that would turn her into an informed, intelligent voter.

Consider Casey as a member of society that could wield the power of a vote. This is a dog that used to function in "society." She has now lost all her faculties. She attempts to eat out of the trash, something she KNOWS is a bad, bad thing. And she does it right in front of me, like she forgot that I am RIGHT there. When I yell at her, she goes into her guilt mode, "opps, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!". She went through a phase about 6 months ago where she forgot she was housebroken. THAT was pleasant. She has resorted to tearing the toilet paper off the roll, something she hasn't done since she was a little puppy. She forgets things as soon as they happen. The roofers we've had here recently have scared the crap out of her. Does she remember this now? I say no. Because if they are quiet for an hour or so then go back to making noise, she barks like it's their first trip here. Casey's best talent is that of "speed bump imitation." No matter where I need to walk, whether it's running for the phone, out the door or getting up in the darkness of night to use the bathroom, Casey is an expert at strategically placing herself in the best position to send me sprawling.

If you knew Casey as intimately as we do, you'd know that there are only three concerns on her miniscule brain: eat, sleep, poop. She could care less about Iraq. She wouldn't know what that is unless is was made by Purina and came in a treat bag. Economics? Not a chance. Health care? I believe she'd want to abolish it. She's not real fond of the vet. Terrorism? That's what we do when we force a bath on her. So I ask you - would you really want Casey to cast a vote, a vote that might negate yours?

If anyone can explain this "My dog votes!" bumper sticker to me, please do. As far as I can determine, there are no prominent animal rights issues on the national front in this presidential campaign. There are no issues of this type in Congressional races. There are certainly no issues dividing local candidates in the upcoming election that have anything to do with animal rights. So help me my friends. What does your dog have to do with it?


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Name: Cattiva
Location: Virginia, United States

About Me: I'm the mom of three: #1 Son (20), The Princess of Wails (17) and their baby brother - The Baby (6). I was a grad-student working on an MA in history until we were surprised - I mean blessed - with The Baby. I'll get back to it...someday (the thesis, not the kid - I have no choice concerning the kid). I am one of only a few people I went to school with who is actually using their history degree in my career (and to think my Father called it Basket-weaving!). I live a very hectic life amongst massive clutter. I call it a good day if we have managed to get home at night without losing one of the kids (no matter how hard I try!). Friends say I have a humorous take on life's happenings. The sad part is that what I write about is true. I laugh to keep from crying.

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