Strong Opinions Again

Life is a blast. Usually.

Recently I’ve gotten kind of sappy in my blog posts. With this post, I aim to remind all of you that I’m a little dog with big dog opinions and attitude.

As you know, I’m usually very friendly, happy and barky towards new things and adventures. There are, however, a few things I hate:

Squirrels

Oh, sure, some say I should be more tolerant towards our handsome rodent neighbors. But I’m not and I’m never going to be. They simply bug the heck out of me. Mom tells me to mind my manners and stop barking at them because it’s rude. Too bad, Squirrels. I’m rude.

Anything In Front Of Me When I’m On Leash

If I see you when I’m on the leash, I’m going to bark at you and do my best to intimidate you and move you along. Been working on this one a while now. Maybe it will get better, maybe it won’t. Since I spend all my weekly allowance on cheese, I’m not going to be buying a crystal ball to check on how this will go in the future. Oh well.

Wimpy Dog Toys

What is this? If a toy can’t stand up to my tiny jaw what good are they? Zoe The Border wears her retirees as a hat to show them whose boss.

Photo courtesy of @zoetheborder

Wylie The Terrier Mix helps his retirees along with no show of mercy.

Photo Courtesy of Wylie The Terrier via @zoetheborder

Ted and Issac The Borders send the weakest ones into retirement on a regular basis.



Photo courtesy of Ted and Issac via @RealJoannek

I think wimpy official dog toys are the innocent victims of a massive conspiracy by the toy manufacturers to get our parents to keep buying us more toys. Grrrr. Manufacturers win this round.

So, partially to combat and document this economic injustice, I started #destructogang on Twitter with my pals help.  Keep an eye out for retiree photos and information about Palm Spring Retirement Village - Phase II.

*Fine Print* 
In direct response to the correct and considerable concerns of my bear, bunny and other small friends on Twitter, rules are in place regarding #destructogang member actions. 

Master Rule No. 1 - No #destructogang member is allowed to retire real, live toys that deserve our love and respect.  At this time, we are allowed to retire official dog toys, shoes, slippers, pillows, and garbage pails.  Other retired items should be submitted via proper channels and will be reviewed prior to admittance as an official retiree.

Master Rule No. 2 - Any #destructogang member caught injuring a real, live toy that deserves our love and respect will be sanctioned immediately. 

Translation = we do not eat our friends.  We know who are friends are and we have no intention of hurting them in any manner.  A security force has been trained to deal with offenders. Hopefully, they will never be needed.

What is this retirement stuff all about, you ask?  Explained here: 

 http://misspishposh.blogspot.com/2011/02/palm-spring-retirement-village.html


There. That sets the record straight.

^ . . ^

Woof

Palm Spring Retirement Village

For our human companions, illness and death can be difficult subjects. Some directly confront the topics, others need more gentle ways.

I go both ways actually. Sometimes, I confront my fears head on - at full bark. Other times, I like a little evasion to soften the moment.

One of Diana’s friends needs the softer way. Sad and difficult issues are not spoken of - directly - in her world. We all have our ways and need to accept this diversity in each other. Diana’s friend likes to say that animals don’t die. They “Retire to Palm Springs."

Works for me.

I took this saying as my own recently, especially regarding my toys. I barked about it to my Twitter buddies in the quise as my toy, to cover my sadness about losing a good friend last summer, Zeus the Pug.

When I first came to Diana and Michael’s house I didn’t play with toys. I stared at them and wagged my tail. Maybe I never played with them before or maybe I wasn’t sure they were for me. I’m not telling and we don’t talk to my original family to find out.

Diana kept playing, tempting me with new stuffy and squeaky plastic toys. I slowly got the hang of it and eventually showed a distinct preference for stuffy’s (with a squeaker if possible).

Ropey the Octopus showed up around Halloween time. He became my best toy friend. I couldn’t settle down at night until he was with me. I would search and search until I found him. Only then could I go to bed.

I'm a dog.  I don’t really get the concept of cause and effect.  I didn’t realize that chewing on his legs would hasten his “Retirement to Palm Springs."

I do not mean to make light of these issues. I am simply coming to terms with loss in my own way. We all deal with it as best we can. I’ve lost a few dog buddies recently and Diana and Michael have lost a few very close human family members too. All of them will be mourned and deeply missed for their unique contributions to our lives.  I will forever treasure the joy of regular communion I shared with them when they were in my life. 

Maybe it is easier to think of friends and toys as going into retirement rather than gone to the ages. Maybe it is.

^ . . ^

Woof