Hi! I’m Pinky. I’m a guard dog. I’m a fierce hunter! Woof!
Sorry, Pinky is my owner’s nickname for me. I should let you know up front, I actually own them, but they just don’t know it. I allow them to live in the fantasy world that they are in charge; it’s good for their self-esteem, and it helps me to get what I want. What do I want?
Treats! Treats! Treats! And Belly Rubs …
It’s not their fault that they’re weak minded – telling me they love me. I’m not sure what that means, as I’m a dog. Even though I am amazingly cute, I’m still a member in good standing within the animal kingdom. And in our kingdom we don’t have pets; does the Alligator have a pet Boa constrictor that it snuggles up with in the Everglades? Are cats and dogs now happily living together? Even though I am super-cute, if I detect a mouse, I’ll kill it, I’ll play with it for my own amusement, and then I’ll eat it. (I don’t need any Saturday morning Elmer Fudd – “Hunting da wabbit” – instructional videos, I instinctively know what to do.)
It is my instinct to pounce! And after I pounce, I expect a treat. If I detect a repairman in the house, I bark out a warning that Pinky owns the turf. It’s what I do, after all, I’m a guard dog. I’m a fierce hunter! I know, I know, my above photo’s intimidating.
The brown haired one, the author dude to the right with the silly bowtie, the one who wrote this short-story for me because it’s National Dog Day. He tells me that he loves me; he tells me that all the time.
Oh my, what a sap!
I have him under my paw, I cast a simple spell on him. But I will warn you, this story is about the other female, the blond business executive – HER! Secretly, I think she cast some spell over the author dude, too. I notice he gives her treats as well. He’s such an easy mark, I guess pretty girl’s need to stick together ~ regardless of species, right?
But she needs some Pink Petunia re-education. She is the reason for this story because she provided me with an emotionally scarring moment. I have flashbacks of her shoes. But, I have learned to work through my issues. I’ll show you how, it might help other canines.
The author dude encouragingly nodded down at me to continue. I simply wiggled on my backside, spread my paws apart in a full on Playboy pose and showed off all my ‘bits and pieces’. I allowed him to rub my soft belly. I like to have my belly rubbed or scratched, it calms me down. And then I get a treat. And then we repeat the process as often as I like.
See how easy I can cast my spell?
I’m from Central Kentucky, so by law I’d smoke to calm my nerves, if it were not for my paws. And I cannot seem to keep the cigarette lit because my lungs are too small. But that might be a bit too French, right? Besides, it seems I am evolutionary flawed and have to live without opposable thumbs. Oh, if I had opposable thumbs the mischief I could create!
My given name is Pink Petunia. I am a ruby red King Charles Cavalier. I am a pure bred. I am beautiful. Okay, you can feel free to lovingly gaze at our old family photo. The other girl, Margaret May has, as the author dude swears to me, “Pinky, Maggie has left the building, she decided to go hang out with Elvis and Jimmy Hendrix”. I don’t know who those people are, but she was quite the tramp. You see, I’m the lady. But I am quite fierce in the above photo biting down on my chew toy. I was on guard duty that day. And then I got a treat. See how this works?
I should have my own non-realty, realty show don’t you think? Keeping Up With the Pinky? I would take a nude selfie, but I refuse to shave off all of my fur like those other girls. Besides, I can’t operate a mobile phone. And lastly, I don’t have those opposable thumbs on my paws, and I happen to possess a sort of humility gene, or is it that I refuse to make a complete vapid fool of myself for money gene?
I know, I know, it comes from my DNA, I have the gift to have – dignity.
But I am pretty, it’s not my fault, I have learned to accept my position in the world. And I’ve heard the words over and over, ‘yada, yada, yada’.
“OH, she’s so cute,” a gawker might say. (Gag me with an expensive chew toy! I’m a guard dog. I’m a fierce hunter!)
I know, I know, now just stop it – you’re embarrassing me. Sorry that you cannot tell I’m embarrassed, as I do not blush, because remember, I’m a dog. I am covered with thick fur. But it’s about my genetics, as the author dude over there might say, so – it’s not my fault, so go ahead – just admire my photo – I am used to being stared at. Do you think I should get some large movie star sunglasses?
Right now, I know you feel the need to hug me, scratch my belly and to brush my luxurious fur, and then maybe take me for a spa day at my favorite groomer? I know all the groomers look forward to my visits, and they compete to have an audience with me. They get to clip my paws, luxuriously bathe and shampoo me, and then they gently brush my fur as they blow it dry at a luke-warm temperature setting. I simply stare at them; I smile, pant my tongue a bit, and wag my tail to let them know they have pleased me. If not, I YELP!
Now, try not to stare into my dark brown eyes. Go ahead; don’t be afraid, I’ll easily absorb your thoughts. Gotcha! Yes, I have already sensed I’ve seduced you. How do I know I absorbed you into my web of intrigue?
As you read this, even though you don’t even own a pet, or you are a sub-human that likes cats – (I don’t understand you cat people, cats are evil spawn). Regardless, now you have the strong desire to find me a treat, right? Yes you do, be honest with yourself, you cannot possibly resist me. It is the first step in your Pinky re-education process to admit it.
Now go get me a treat. Ha! I tricked you! I’m not even there. However, for your information, I prefer asparagus, bacon, but I’ll settle for chips, string cheese or anything you or anyone nearby might be eating. And then you can take me for a casual walk, don’t worry; I’ll lead you about the neighborhood and introduce you to all the hot-babes.
I am the queen of our castle here in Houston. Woof! I don’t mean that sort of ‘queen’, although I have noted a few interesting people from our daily constitutional walks within our busy urban setting. I think the author dude has learned the risk management technique to avoid. Regardless, I am quite regal. I was bred to be regal, thus the King Charles. Investigate the below photo of my ancestor’s taking care of business!
But back to the point to this story …
I do grudgingly have to admit, I do have a few minor limitations within my kingdom. It was the business executive woman I mentioned earlier, the other female with blond hair who ‘shouted’ at me. It was a lesson I learned that motivated me to share my angst. The author dude encouraged me to share, and to face my issues. He thought I might help other dogs, we both agreed there was no help for cats or cat people, they’re all just strange. And they’re all doomed.
It was an innocent mistake; after I had devoured my breakfast, the author dude had complimented how beautiful I was, which I already new, but I didn’t mind the reminder. He then (yawn) told me he loved his Pinky. I know, I know, I have such a difficult life; after all, it’s not my fault, its genetics. As I remembered it, that day he had scratched my belly, (as usual), I smiled and panted my tongue in approval. But after another asparagus treat, I then felt the need for a well-earned nap. A girl needs her beauty rest.
Sorry, from the memory, I have to cover my eyes with my perfectly manicured front paws; the flashback still causes me distress. But I think I should share the experience. It might help other canines, in particular the bigger dogs, they tend to be – s-l-o-w and they tend not to realize that not all girls want to have their behinds sniffed at, it’s inappropriate behavior. And they should realize it’s all about foreplay, but give a dog a bone? And you have another dog.
I was simply seeking a quiet place to rest that day as I tend to snore.
So, I happened to discover a wondrous spot inside the blond one’s closet. Unfortunately, I had a few items that I had to rearrange to create an ideal spot for me to recline. And it took a great deal of effort, clutching what she called shoes with my teeth. She wears these dainty things. I am quite fortunate. I have paws and I walk on all four of them. Well, the first shoe I had to remove was surprisingly lite, and I noted my teeth quickly sank into the soft leather. I simply flicked it away. And so forth, and so on … I snarled as I vanquished them. And I did decide that a few that were particularly colorful, with really soft leather, were great chew toys to help me relax!
That day, sorry, I have to pause again to collect myself. Ah yes, thank you author dude for the comforting belly rub. And thank you for that treat.
Okay, so I had hoped to create a perfect retreat, an exclusive spot hidden within the closet darkness, covered with a silk and soft cotton bed. Sorry, I have to go drink some water from my exclusive water bowl. It is a pink bowl, get it? Sorry, I need to manage my thoughts.
Well, here goes, I was snuggled into a silky clump, sleeping, and I was quite comfortable just snoring away dreaming about spa days, belly rubs and treats. “PINK!” That sound was my first memory. My second, memory was another loud short, as in my name – “Pinnnkkkyyyy!”
At first, I attempted not to notice her. I thought I was safely hidden within the darkness. But I suddenly sensed after being snatched from my nirvana I was flying into a bright light. The next thing I knew I was locked inside my hut.
Now, I like my hut, it’s dark and comfortable, but my delicate sensibilities were accosted from the speed that moved me into the hut. It was traumatizing.
I did not understand what the issue was – as she shouted at me, “Pinky, those are my shoes! No, No, No …” And she wagged her perfectly manicured finger at me. I have not a clue who these other people were, a ‘Jimmy Chew’, a ‘Manolo Bla-bla’, something or other, there were some other human names, but I’ve never met these humans, sorry, I did not understand. I was suddenly stuck in a fashion seminar about this seasons or was it last season, limited editions and shoes that cannot possibly be replaced.
Sorry, I have to stop, pant for a bit, maybe get some more water to help work through the nightmare. And yes thank you for that chip, the texture helps to calm my frayed nerves.
Okay, I’m feeling better now, forgive me as I pant a bit. With my paw up in the air, I really do appreciate you listening to my nightmare. It comes in second to the nightmarish moments I have to go to visit my doctor, and her poking and prodding at my good nature.
But I’ll discuss those repressed memories another time. I do know, as the author dude told me, I had “Pinky, you crossed the Rubicon”. I have not a clue what he meant. He tends to talk in riddles, but after all, I have him under my spell, he loves me, right?
My first lesson for all pets, stay away from a woman’s shoes. I learned that day that I’ll never go back into her closet, it’s simply not up to my expectations, and it is full of landmines. These women have an unnatural affection for ‘shoes’. Whatever! Woof! I would give two snaps with my paws, but, it’s that opposable thumb problem that I noted earlier.
Well, after a few minutes, she calmed down, picked me up and started to brush my fur. She told me she loved me, (Sap!) and then, she gave me a treat. Ah yes, she looked into my eyes, and she gave in, she gave me several treats.
And all was well in my kingdom.