a blog launched to laugh at my own expense

Remebering Pickles the Pup

Once upon a time, I was a seventh grader with a bowl cut which is a nice way of saying I was a twelve year old without many friends. Middle school was an emotional time for me.  Not only did I accidentally shave off one of my eyebrows, but I was not allowed to wear the sparkle studded Limited Too booty shorts that the cool girls wore.  It is still no surprise to me that I was always picked last for recess soccer teams. Only a mother and a black English Labrador named Pickles could love my pleated hand-me-down Gap khakis and sharpie-ied in eyebrow.  

Pickles was my best friend. Even though she never gave me a Christmas present, I feel I am mature enough to measure our friendships outside of the "Did-they-give-you-a-Christmas-present" scale.  Pickles came into our family after my sister won a dinner table bet.  My father actually bet my sister that if she ate three cherry tomatoes, we could get another dog. Three cherry tomatoes later, and the family is driving to West Virginia to bring home Pickles. 

Her retired show dog looks did not count for everything. From the start, Pickles exhibited some learning "differences".  Initially, we couldn't figure out why she had such terrible breath until we watched her in the backyard. It turns out Pickle's favorite delicacy was the Poo Poo Platter... served fresh daily from the backyard. Pickles and her Labrador learning difference also struggled with stairs. It was always obvious when Pickles was attempting to travel between floors because it sounded like a schizophrenic wildebeest having a seizure on the staircase.

In our 8 magical years together, it was obvious to all that Pickles and I were similar. We both had hairy legs, loved (to chew) decorative pillows, had terrible morning breath and did not have the attention span to finish a game of catch in the backyard. We were both flanked by prettier sisters and lived in constant fear of our natural hair color. (There was an occasion when Pickles's grey beard was dyed black using Men-In Just for Mustaches - but what girl doesn't experiment with hair dye.) Wearing black was our go-to color though I was fortunate enough to be able to rotate more than just black fur through my wardrobe. We both loved taking baths, getting our hair blown out and we loved inviting ourselves to any party serving hors d'oeuvres. And on her last day, Pickles left this earth the same way I would....wagging her tail and scarfing down a cheeseburger and a slice of cheesecake for breakfast.

Though Pickles and her bad breath, hairy legs and doggie disabilities will be missed DEARLY dogedly, I am ready for the next one. I think my next dog doppelganger will be a basset hound since we both have long faces, are concerningly unphotogenic and drool constantly.

LOVE you Pickles Kitten!


No comments