Rescue dog…

My dog was a rescue dog.

Not in the sense that she was found tied to a tree with the rope dug into her neck requiring various surgeries to repair her emaciated self that you had no idea she was all ribs and bones until her matted coat was shaved from her body… as in my brother’s dog, Daryl.  Not that kind of rescue.

Nor was she tied on in the backyard of a house with a big bowl of food when they moved out, expecting their son’s friend to come adopt her only to be discovered a few days later when the real estate agent was showing the house then sent to a shelter where we found her… as in our last dog, Pumpkin.  Not that kind of rescue.

Nope… Zucchini was rescued from a breeder who kept emailing me pictures of my little pup dressed in pretty party dresses.

With a flower in her paws.

That kind of rescue.

I swore from the moment she got away from the crazy breeder I’d never dress her in anything again.  And then… well… Halloween came and there’s nothing funnier than a bulldog in a tutu.  Then Christmas came and the problem was that Mrs. Claus had knit her this fabulous sweater.  Then summer came and this awesome pink polo shirt was perfect for sailing.  And… well… then it was Halloween again and a glow-the-dark skeleton costume on a fat dog is hilarious!  Then I bought her a red bandanna ’cause… that’s just awesome.  And for Christmas, she got the most wonderful brown plaid coat with a fabulous hood and pea coat buttons.

When I looked at her in the car today all warm and cozy in her pretty hooded coat with an exasperated look on her face… her ears and head all covered in a Little Red Riding Hood sort of way… I swore I’d never dress her up again. 

In a dress.

With a flower in her paws.

She’ll still be wearing the coat and the bandanna and when summer comes again I’m getting her a new polo shirt but I swear I will never make her wear a dress!

Swear.

My youngest and her best friend volunteer at Tailwagrrrs one day a week.  They hang out with the dogs in the doggy daycare playing fetch and sitting pretty and each week beg me to take one home.

Last week when they were ready to go I asked what their two favorite dogs were and at the very same time one said “Chips” and the other said “Jam”.  I’m on Weight Watchers and just the thought of Chips and Jam and the fact that I was standing in a “Doggy Bakery and Cafe” famous for their “Mutt Muffins” sent my stomach into a growling rage worse than a Bulldog with a bone so I never did find out what kind of dogs they were.

My understanding is sometimes there are dogs in need of homes and rescuing so give them a call if you’re looking for a fabulous new friend.  Or an obedience class.  Or place for your dog to hang out for the day.  Or a place to hang out with your dog… or your friend… or to be groomed (like at the spa but with fur!)

And yes… they sell dog clothes!