PLEASE, PET LADY,
Can you help us with our dilemma? This story is scary and should only be read by the bravest of souls. One day last week my daughter was playing in the yard just minding her own business when an unmarked late sedan stopped next to the house. With a shout of “Hey little girl” from within the darkened interior and the opening of a door the puppy terrorist entered our lives. This was a dark day indeed for feet everywhere.
The puppy terrorist has an insatiable taste for foot flesh not a soul in the house can walk through without a sneak attack on the most tender part of your foot. In order to combat this heinous assault, we’ve all taken to carrying puppy toys and chew bones with us when venturing into “THE PUPPY ZONE” that way when she springs we can shake the toy vigorously divert her attention and run to our desired destination (usually the bathroom or the safety of the kitchen behind the gate).
All efforts to negotiate with the puppy terrorist end in failure and bitter disappointment, but not all is dark for the puppy terrorist has yet to befoul the carpet or take a liking to the taste of furniture or other valuables. So far her demands seem to be few but very strenuous (5 a.m. walks followed by two hours of foot torture, two meals a day and outside every half hour for relief).
In the beginning we were hoping to relocate the puppy terrorist to another location but she seems to be fitting in better every day so maybe we can adjust to life with bleeding feet.
Well that’s the whole story of the puppy terrorism and the coming prosperity of a podiatrist to be named at a later date (well maybe not the whole story after all she’s only a couple of months old).
With sore feet and throbbing toes,
Jimmy & Family
DEAR JAMES GANG,
Goodness, James, your grandiloquence is impressive, and how boldly you eschew the comma! However, the Pet Lady, upon finishing your rather prolix missive, remains uncertain as to exactly what your dilemma is. Considering the alarming way your puppy came into your lives, you ought to count yourselves lucky to have a little girl plus a foot-mangling puppy, rather than neither; please do tell little Jamesina that, in the future, unmarked sedans in front of the house containing dwellers-within calling to her should be greeted with shrieking at the top of her lungs and fleeing.
The diversionary tactics of toys and foodstuffs you have been employing seem sensible ones. You might also consider donning protective footwear (combat boots spring to mind as appropriate to your somewhat bizarre military simile, as well as quite a fashion statement for the entire family). While your rhetoric quite obscures it, James, the photograph you kindly enclosed communicates the gist of the matter: You and your brood have acquired an obscenely cute new little fur friend, and no amount of foot-attack could pry her from the familial bosom. Please administer a pat on the behalf of the Pet Lady, and best to you all.
The Pet Lady
The Pet Lady awaits, sipping a very dry vodka martini with one olive. Send your pet query and depiction to The Pet Lady, c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104, or e-mail thepetlady@seattleweekly.com.
