I’m having a horrible day. Really. Just a terrible, terrible
day. You see, this morning I came to the horrifying realization
that I am doing something I swore I would never do. And it’s really
something awful. Well, not
hide-the-body-and-hope-the-the-police-don’t-find-it-awful, but
awful nonetheless.
I’m having a horrible day. Really. Just a terrible, terrible day. You see, this morning I came to the horrifying realization that I am doing something I swore I would never do. And it’s really something awful. Well, not hide-the-body-and-hope-the-the-police-don’t-find-it-awful, but awful nonetheless.
I dress my dog. In clothes. And if that isn’t bad enough, I do it only when I won’t get caught. I never dress my dog, Kirby, in clothes when others are around. She never goes to a vet appointment dressed in her little T-shirt that says, “Being cute is a 24-hour job.” She never steps out for a walk dressed in her raincoat and boots – and it’s not because we haven’t had rain lately. It’s because I’m embarrassed. I didn’t even dress her in her Santa outfit on Christmas Day.
Do you know what that means? It means I’m a closeted dog-dresser. I know. I know. It’s awful, isn’t it? I mean, I have always – and I mean ALWAYS – made fun of idiots who dress their dogs in clothes. And now, I am one of those idiots.
Omigod. I am just a sick, sick person.
But I can’t stop. She’s just so dang cute when she prances around the house dressed in her little sweat suit like she’s going to jump on a doggy treadmill at any time. Or when she wears the cute little tank top encrusted with rhinestones that spell out, “I’m Gorgeous” in sparkly cursive letters. And by the way – she is gorgeous.
And yet, I can’t believe it came to this. I’ve always been an outspoken opponent of doggy daywear. And frankly, my dogs in the past have hated dressing up. I once tried to put a witch hat on my dog Carnie and she ate it. Do you know how difficult it is to get witch-hat barf out of the carpet?
But Kirby seems to like dressing up. She wears whatever I put on her. I think she feels pretty. Or maybe she just knows that after she gets dressed in whatever god-awful thing I’m making her wear that day that she will get her favorite liver-flavored treats as a reward.
Yeah, I am sick, sick, sick.
You know, it’s not like I set out to be a closeted dog-dresser. But one day Kirby was outside and it was cold out. And she shivered a bit when she came in the house. And I thought, “Gee, she might need a sweater.” So I went to Petco and bought her the cutest little pink one, with brown harlequins on it. And it was downhill from there.
After that, I noticed how sweet all the outfits were. And that’s when I bought her a Santa suit. And then I bought another sweater – lavender this time – in case her pink one was in the wash on a cold day. And then one day it rained and I realized that my poor, defenseless dog could be outside in the rain getting soaked because I was a terrible owner who had never, ever bought her a raincoat to wear in the backyard. So now she has one, along with matching rain boots. And of course, we haven’t had any rain since.
But what’s really awful about this is that I thought it was just a winter thing. I honestly believed that I was just protecting my puppy from the elements. I thought that once it got warmer out, I wouldn’t dress Kirby up anymore. Well, it’s been warmer. And that’s why she’s wearing her tank top.
Clearly I am sicker than I thought. And clearly I need help. Because yesterday, as I was walking through the pet store I saw the cutest little dress. It was pink with a brown bow and brown hearts on it. And I swear to you the thought, “Ooh, a Valentine’s dress” floated through my mind the minute I saw it. And I had to use every ounce of control I had not to buy the darn thing.
But the very worst thing of all is that you know it will just get worse. And the next step in doggy dressing is truly frightening. The next step is being in Nob Hill with one of those humongous shoulder bags that are supposed to look like a giant purse, but in reality have a tiny, dressed-up dog peeking out the top. Someone has to save me before this happens. Because that’s where I’m headed. And it scares the bejeebers out of me.
