The Dog Recreates Herself

Due to issues of breed discrimination, the dog no longer refers to herself as a Chow Retriever, or a Golden Chow, or anything that might indicate she's anything other than a goofy lovable mutt. She's a Retriever MIX. And what is she mixed with? Heck, we don't know. How're we supposed to know? Poor dog came from a rescue shelter, no telling where from.

My Retriever Mix.

I've advised her, when out in public, to keep her spotted purple tongue hidden as that may let people think she's some kind of Chow. This is why Dog does not go out on hot days when she's likely to be panting. Someone might spot that purple tongue and the secret would be out.

This drastic action is necessary because people are dumb.

Wait. While I do not regret that statement, I should probably clarify it, since not all people are dumb, and mostly they mean well, which is, I believe, how the road to Hell got paved, but that's a different matter altogether.

Some places discriminate against certain breeds of dogs. And with good reason, of course. Certain breeds tend to be a bit more aggressive, a bit scarier, a bit more likely to attack and eat moving targets that may be people. Or may not, but after the attack dog is done with it, it's difficult to tell. Chows are sometimes on that list. Can you believe it? Chows? This is no ordinary Chow however. She's a Chow RETRIEVER. (And yet her retrieving skills are very sad.) So when looking for an apartment, management may or may not have restrictions on breeds. (Assuming they take pets at all.) If Chows are included on their little list of "Dogs Who May Kill," she must have an interview first (previously discussed at a previous time). HOWEVER, if one says, "She's a Retriever Mix," which is the absolute truth, it's assumed she's one of the friendly lovable harmless dogs that no one fears, and we can avoid the impropriety of presenting a dog for an interview.

Dog has also recently lot a significant amount of weight. Not so's we'd notice however. When looking at apartment requirements recently one place has a restriction on size. (Many places have restrictions on size, as if those little toy things that people call dogs somehow don't
count.) The restriction was 60 pounds or less. Okay, she probably weights about 68.

I'm calling it 58. I think my dog can pass for 58 pounds. Most of her is fur anyway, so how can anyone tell? Of course, if they have her get on a scale at the interview, they might notice she's a bit over 60, but I can avoid that by claiming she has irrational fear of scales and they upset her far too much, the poor dog.

It's a sad society that makes even its dogs lie about their weight. Still, we must do what we must do in order to be accepted, right?

The remaking of the dog continues. She's now all caught up with idea that she can be anything she wants, anyone she wants, if only she has enough money for the surgery.

She's thinking of changing her name and getting something more dramatic too. Like Vera.

Next week we have an appointment with the dentist to see about getting her teeth capped.