I don’t get any respect from my dog, Carnie. And I don’t get any
love, either. You may ask how I know this
– it’s because Barbara Walters has a talking dog. Specifically,
she has a dog that says,
”
I love you.
”
I don’t get any respect from my dog, Carnie. And I don’t get any love, either. You may ask how I know this – it’s because Barbara Walters has a talking dog. Specifically, she has a dog that says, “I love you.”
I’m no Barbara Walters, but heck, don’t I deserve an “I love you” from my dog? I mean, I’ve given her everything she ever wanted. She has a brand new, super-comfy princess bed sitting next to the fireplace. She has stinky treats that I can’t stand to smell, let alone feed to her. She gets premium dog food that costs more than my shoes.
And still, I don’t get any love from her. Oh, but Ms. Walter’s dog says it. Her dog says, “I love you” all the time. Sure, at first I thought Ms. Walters had been sipping on the crazy juice, but it turns out that a lot of dogs say, “I love you.” Just not my dog.
And it has nothing to do with breed, either. Nope. Lots of dogs from teeny, weenie Chihuahuas to big, old Great Danes have told their owners they love them. And I don’t mind saying I’m quite jealous.
I’ve spent 16 years with my dog. We’ve been best friends since she was a puppy. And not once have I gotten an “I love you.” Oh sure, sometimes I got a lick – but mainly that’s after I spill something edible on myself.
So where’s the love for me? I’ve provided princess beds. I’ve looked the other way when Junior was feeding Carnie forbidden people food. I’ve taken her on walks. Heck, when she started getting too old for walks, but still wanted to be outside, I’ve hauled her hairy little butt around the neighborhood in a wagon.
You’d think that would get some love for me, wouldn’t you? But no, not from my dog. In fact, not only has she never told me she loves me, she’s never had any inclination at all to speak to me about anything. Nothing. We don’t discuss politics, weather or even what the heck Paris Hilton is thinking by dressing her little yappy dog in a tiara.
And that just ticks me off. I mean, nobody has ever seen my dog in a tiara. You’d think that would count for something. My dog has dignity. I’ve never dressed her up in some ridiculous outfit or carried her around town in my purse. Oh, all right. There was that first Christmas when she was a puppy and I made her wear little antlers with Christmas balls hanging on them – but I learned from that. I never made her do it again. I even burned the antlers. What more could she want from me?
But after thinking about it, I figured my poor dog might not know how to speak. She’d never seen another dog talk. I figured that could be the reason she never spoke to me. So I showed her a clip of “David Letterman” that had a talking dog on it. And then I waved a stinky treat at her and crooned “I love you” about a million times.
And do you know what she did? She barked at me. She barked loud and sharp and scared the heck out of me since Carnie never, ever barks. And then she tried to leap up and grab the odorous treat from my hand.
How fair is that? The rest of the world, including Barbara Walters, gets a talking dog and I get barked at until I finally give in. So I sat Carnie down, and we had a little chat. I told her that I gave her a princess bed and baths and treats and she needed to show me some love.
And she looked at me and barked. I restrained myself. I could have called her a bad word – which isn’t really bad since she IS a female dog – but I didn’t. And I didn’t just stomp off into my room – which, I don’t mind telling you, has another super-comfy princess bed so her royal highness can go from one room to another and always have a place to reign.
No, I just gave her another smelly treat and called it a day. After all, even if Carnie doesn’t talk to me, it’s OK. I’ll still provide beds, food and fresh water. She just has to provide the companionship.
After all, she is my best canine pal.
