My dog is a princess. Yes that’s right, a princess. Technically, it is not even my dog, it’s my girlfriend’s dog, but we have been together for 3 years and in my mind I am now the dog’s father. There are three kind of pet owners: The ‘I don’t really want this thing’ owner, the ‘yeah, it’s pretty cool’ owner, and the ‘I am obsessed, and it’s probably not healthy’ owner. I am the latter. I will give you a few reasons why, and maybe you’ll end up realizing you have an unhealthy relationship with your pet, too! Before I begin, I would like to stress the fact that I know I am crazy.
To start things off, she has me wrapped around her thumb. The worst part? She knows it. Sometimes, when she is bored of sleeping on the $3000 bed that she has taken custody of, she will do a little princess trot over to where I’m sitting and give me this look. The look says: figure out what I want. Maybe she needs to go the bathroom. It could be she’s hungry. The thing is I know when she’s done these things last, so the stare is usually “I want to play, so drop what you’re doing”. I abide.
Unfortunately, I am a smoker. My girlfriend isn’t, plus we rent, so when I need that nicotine fix I walk my ass outside to smoke. In Michigan, the winter is terribly cold, so when I come back in from a smoke, I cherish the fact that I got at least an hour before I have to brave the arctic chill again. Let me give you a scenario: I need to smoke, so as I bundle up I ask the dog if she has to go ‘potty’, she “says” no. The dog knows what the word ‘potty’ means, and if I ask her and she has to go, she wags her tail and gives me this little ‘yeah, I do’ bow. Outside, my knuckles have lost the color of blood from the freezing wind, so I flick my half-finished smoke and rush inside to the sweet salvation of free heat (utilities included, so the apartment is a cozy 74 degrees at all times). As I pop off my shoes, take off my three layers of coats, the princess comes up and bows. Despair rushes through me. “Do you have to go potty?” *Tail wag. Bow.* “Dammit!”
In my time I spend away from the princess in the castle (apartment), I am a cook. I would be a chef, but I quit school about 85% of the way through. I’ve served probably close to a 50,000 meals in my life, but none is as rewarding as when I get to serve royalty. As I said before, I get a little tail wag when I ask her if she has got to go potty. Let’s just say there is a new global wind pattern created every time the question “are you hungry?” is asked. You might say that this is normal, but here is where it’s not: I am somehow more excited than the dog. It is as if I am a starving homeless man, and I am the one finally being fed.
Along with being a cook and a freelance writer, I could also add ‘Jester’ to my resume. When I am playing with the princess, or she is just exuberating pure beauty, I get this crazy sensation throughout my body. The symptoms are that I grind my teeth like a meth head, I talk in a ‘baby voice’, and I sometimes bust out in nonsensical song. I’ve tried to re-create this to a few people, but it is impossible to do without the cute little puppy there to fuel the flames. My favorite strategy is to take a popular melody and replace every word or musical note with the word “puppy”. Yes, I know, I’m a nut job, but at least I’m honest and not ashamed about it.
Like all princesses, her comfort is top priority of her minions. A princess lives a life of luxury and being pampered, and my princess is no different. A few weeks ago, I really wanted to see a movie (‘The Hobbit’ to be specific). Me and my girlfriend were Christmas shopping and we had already been gone for a few hours. On our way to dinner, we realize that it will be a 2.5 hour movie and that meant the dog would not have been outside for a total of like 7 hours. Not wanting to come home to a pile of dog shit, we scrapped the movie plans and headed home after dinner. I still haven’t seen “The Desolation of Smaug”.
The few reasons why I believe my dog to be a princess could also have been titled “Ways You Could Mistake Me For Not Being Mentally Stable”. The good point is, I am not alone. When I’m walking the dog, random people on the street cannot help but to stop and compliment the princess on her beauty. Little girls stop and try to get one little pet so they can tell their friends they met a princess in real life. As I type, the princess is probably sleeping in what we call ‘The Puppy Kingdom’, which is the mound of pillows at the top of the bed. While I know it sounds crazy, I’d rather be too in love with my dog than one of those dicks who doesn’t feed them or pay attention to them for weeks. If you don’t own a pet or aren’t madly obsessed with them, I hope you got a laugh from this. If you are like me, and see that your pet could be part of the royal family, I have one thing to say to you: real recognize real.