The things we do for our animals. We’re going on vacation soon, for the first time since Wendy’s been part of the family. After four months in a shelter, I couldn’t bear the thought of her sitting in a kennel-type situation. So I investigated a group boarding facility, the main business of which is dog day care. Before they’d accept her, she had to have a dry run, a get-acquainted day to make sure she could follow the rules and so forth.
And yes, she passed:
You will not be surprised to learn they have webcams. (And that Alan checked it today. She was running around like a happy maniac.)
Well, I do want her to be well-cared for when we’re gone.
I’m not 100 percent comfortable with the elevation of pets to human status in middle-class culture, even as I acknowledge they are better companions than many members of our species. I can take a laughing reference to “fur babies,” but I think many of the people who throw around terms like that aren’t doing so lightly. There’s a new pet store in my neighborhood that should be called Thanks to the Chinese Juggernaut! because if it weren’t for the pet poisonings of a few years back, surely there wouldn’t be this vast market for organic, 100 percent natural pet food, would there? It’s frightfully expensive, and there’s nothing like spending $50 for a 20-pound bag to convince you every penny is worth it.
Wendy eats Eukanuba. It’s not cheap. ($38/20 lbs.) It used to be considered gourmet. The pet-store people smile indulgently when I lug it to the counter. You’ll come around, their eyes say. Your fur baby deserves it.
Pals, after the revelry of the weekend, I have finally been felled — a cold, nothing serious, but the last thing I want to do is stare at this laptop another damn minute. You guys play nice, and I’ll try to rally tomorrow, OK?