Saturday, April 2, 2011

Big Like Me

I have read all of the 150,00 blogs (I had Pocket do the counting) that have been posted on the Tanner Brigade since the group was formed.  I kept track of who had fun, who was treated well, who got the most food, who plays the hardest.  After having studied all this data I came to one conclusion.  Big digs have more fun.

Pocket disagreed.  She said little dogs had more fun.  The only way to find out which one of us was correct was for me to spend a day posing as a big dog.

I contacted the Teddie Bond institute for Doggy Experiments.  It is now run by his sister Gracie Anne Beck.  Gracie is a big help in finding Teddie's inventions but not really good at knowing how they work.  But when I found the inflatable big dog suit I knew I was in business.

We brought it home but Pocket and I couldn't figure out how to make it work.  Pocket tried blowing it up with her breath but she passed out in ten seconds.  Then we tried to inflate it using a pump.  Pocket rode it up and down, up and down, until she went way too far down and flew up and out the window. 

Pocket limped back in and we studied it again.  Then Pocket pulled a lever she found and all of a sudden the giant St Bernard inflated in front of our eyes.  We both went to hide.  It swayed back and forth.  I went out first.  I smelled it.  It smelled just like those dolls Daddy has that he has told us we can never, ever tell anyone about (Pocket remember to take this part out while editing.)  Next came the bag of hair and glue.  Well Pocket and I did the best we could in putting fur all over that inflatable puppy but we both came out looking like that freaky guy's beard on American Idol. 

We tried licking it off but the hair stuck to our tongue and we looked like Tom Cruise after spending the night at Harvey Fierstein's.  Ugh!  I put Pocket in the tub.  I turned on the water.  She screamed out "Hot, hot, hot!" I thought, great, a disco and began dancing to the words and the steam until Pocket knocked me off the side of the tub and turned on the hot water.  Let me tell you, fake St Bernard fur burning on a Yorkie does not smell good.

We got the water under control, began to fill the tub, knocked down the shampoo, got nice and sudsy, got one of those scrubby things and a comb, got all the glue and the hair off of us, kept the water running, clogged up the drain, and yada, yada, yada, let's just say no one will be using the tub until we move and we're hoping the new owners move in, turn on the tub, watch it back up and say "My God, we clogged the tub just by putting the key in the front door."  (And geesh, did Mommy and Daddy get testy over this.  Just because you've got the whole drama of a house sale doesn't mean you can lose you sense of humor.)

So then came the big day.  I climbed in the inflatable St Bernard.  Pocket sewed me in with her teeth.  I walked through the invisible doggy door.  I bounced off.  There it was.  The first thing I learned about being a big dog.  They don't fit so easy through doggy dogs.

Pocket got the door open and I pranced out.  First difference I noticed:  When you're a little dog people expect you to move for them, but when you're a big dog, everyone gets out of the way.  I soon came to a park.  There were big dogs and little dogs playing together.  I ran over.  Some of the little dogs barked at me like they wanted to fight.  Silly little dogs.  Their Mommies became frightened, picked them up and carried them to another part of the park.  The mothers of the big dogs watched them go.

"Thank god those little dogs are gone," said one of the Moms. "Let's get rid of these silly store bought treats.  Here is your freshly made filet mignon.  She held it out to us and we each took a bite.  It was the best thing I have ever tasted.  I turned to a regal looking German Shepard.  "Do you always get fed like this?" I asked.

"Once those little ones are gone," he said chuckling.

Another woman then called over to us.   She said it was time for something to drink.  I stuck my nose in the dish and I sneezed.  "This isn't water," I said.

"Of course not, it is Dom Perignon.  There aren't any little dogs to see," the dog next to me said.

The drink made me a little light headed.  And the filet mignon had gone right through me.  I had to do my business on the sidewalk, I was so embarrassed.  I looked around to see who would pick it up.  "Don't worry," another of my new big friends said.  "No one cleans up our poop.  We can vick wherever we want."

One of the Moms came back with her little dog.  Suddenly the Moms of us big dogs began yelling at us.  Don't bother that little dog.  Sit.  Stay.  Don't bark.  Don't pull on the leash.  It was like being a dog again.  But then the last little dogs left the park.   When they were gone we were all taken off leash.  "Go ahead, run around and play," a Great Dane said.

"But we have to be on leash don't we?" I asked.

"That's just for the little dogs, big dogs can do whatever they want."  I began running and playing with the big dogs.  A Shih Tzu saw us and began barking but his Mom pulled the little boy away.  He had been complaining that us big dogs go to run free.  "Silly little dog," the Great Dane said chuckling.

I was rasslin with a big yellow Lab when I heard a popping sound.  My suit had got a punctured.  Oh no!  All the big dogs stood in wonder as I deflated to my little Yorkie self.  "Oh no that little dog knows all our secrets," the Great Dane said.

"We need to shut her mouth for good," a sheepdog said.  I looked at all these big dogs and I smiled.  Then I turned tail and ran,.

For all the advantages big dogs have the one us little dogs have is that we are able to slip under bushes and through locked fences left slightly ajar.  I was able to lose those big, frustrated, dogs pretty easily,.

I ran into the house and told a stunned Pocket what had happened, realized she was stunned by a chipmunk on the deck slapped her and told her about the big dog conspiracy.  She was less stunned.

So now I have told my Tanner Brigade and Blogger Family.  So look out big dogs.  Because I have ordered dozens of big dog suits, for me, Pocket, Hattie, Shadow, Chelsea, Ashton, Bentley, Gracie, Team Small Dog, Silvie, the little Dogs of Brazil and our other tiny friends.  So next time you're at the dog park, sitting next to another big dog, off leash, drinking your champagne and eating your Filet Mignon remember, that Great Dane next to you could be a little dog, and we're on to you.














3 comments:

  1. You definitely prove that little dogs have BIG imaginations. And big dogs could never fit into little dog suits.

    This reminds me of the gag kit for Doberman owners to disguise their dogs as Poodles.

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  2. Thank you so much for ordering a suit for me. But I must tell I work the being little angle to DEATH. I can proudly say that my tootsies have not touched icky dirt in years. I stand on my hind legs against my two leggeds stretch myself and five the the hootie face. You know, roll my eyes up so the whites are showing and pose like a Disney dog who is pleading. I get scooped up and covered in kisses and then... then I work it. I am absolutely convinced that my humans would literally die for me. My latest is to put my paw on their mouth so they can kiss it. And they do. I think we are not far from training them to kiss my tush. I got momma to kiss up my belly many times. Soon... soon ... my tush. But I am curious about this filet mignon thing. Hopefully it won't do to me what the beef tenderloin did to me. Maybe I will make one of my humans taste it first. They are my designated tasters. Once I know it is safe I can really put it away. You should see me eating crab legs. The chore is getting them to clean them for you. Anyway. I think I would try the dog suit, if not for anything else, but to put the fear of DOG in that miserable mutt across the street who pees like a girl even though he is a BOY... nuff said....

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  3. GD captcha setting stole my comment AGAIN!. So just how does one get their hands on one of these BIG DOG suits? will there be a sign up list over at the brigade? Can I order one online?

    @Vie - you got me rolling in laughter here. Mostly cause Mama *literally* kisses my but, the furry part not the icky part on a regular basis and tells me "Koly, I love your butt.: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

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