One time I bought my dog a coat. She is not the kind of the dog that needs to wear a coat.
She is not a floofy thing. She is not a rat thing. She is not a dust ruffle thing. She is a mutt mixture of poodle and beagle thing, barrel-chested and part grizzly bear thing. She looks like the owl in The Secret of NIMH. (No she doesn’t — inserts the wife here — quite emphatically.)
She is a little brown dog — a plain brown dog — the kind of dog that if you put a bow in her hair, it will somehow make her look worse. When we first got her, I posted her puppy picture and an anonymous internet commenter said she looked like she smelled bad. I deleted it, but he wasn’t exactly lying. She is the kind of dog that looks like she smells bad.
(NO SHE DOESN’T — inserts the wife here — although we often laugh and tease the dog about that comment.)
Again, she is not the kind of dog that needs to wear a coat. And yet, I bought her one last year, right before the supposed polar vortex.
Let me go on a tangent for a moment. Remember when the Weather Channel was a pleasant, muzak-playing slideshow of temperatures and five-day forecasts? Now it’s a mutated, deformed beast of its former self. I consider it one of the scariest websites there is, next to Fan Fiction Forums and WebMD.
For instance, if I go to WebMD, I’ll come away convinced I have Esophageal Cancer when I only have heartburn. And if I go to Weather.com to read about the rain, I’ll come away doomsday-prepping for a monsoon.
That’s how I ended up buying the dog a coat. I was certain we were all preparing for The Day After Tomorrow conditions. I was certain we were all going to insta-freeze. The weather forecasters all acted like it was going to be the thousand-year storm of sub-artic hell. Having not grown up in a particularly cold-weather region, I bought it. I bought it literally. I mean, I bought the dog a freaking coat.
Go ahead, tease me. Around here, I regularly got off school for less than a snow-flake. Some kids fondly remember their epic snow days — I remember mine as sludge-rain days.
I also did my True Marylander Official Duties during an Official Freak the Fuck Out Weather Event, up to and including:
– Buy a gallon of milk
– Toilet paper, yo. Lots of toilet paper.
– Fill up the gas tank
– Buy enough food to survive World War III
– Buy the dog a coat
The thing is, I didn’t just get any old dog coat/sweater-vest thing out of the junky pet section at TJ Maxx. Dude, I went NUTS and bought a fully-insulated, waterproof, polar-fleece coat WITH A BUILT-IN TEMPERATURE GAUGE ON IT.
I’ve been making her wear it outside lately just to get my money’s worth out of it. Poor dog.