Tinkerbell Hilton. Coco Chanel Witherspoon. Texas Cyrus. Rigby Simpson-Wentz. Esther Drescher. Wagandstuff McAleer.
These are just a few of the rich and famous dogs that rule the celebrity dog world. What do they have in common? They are all painfully cute. I want to squeeze them. I want to put them in an actual vice and crush their little bodies until their adorable bones are dust, because their cuteness is overwhelming and I just lose all sensibility around things that amazing.
This is one of my dogs.
Honey is a chihuahua/pug mix; a “chug”, they call it, which is such an appropriate and descriptive word for that ugly mug. For that reason, Honey is mostly referred to as Chug.
Baby-Gurlz was born 6/6/06 and I think that’s just as significant as the fact that I have to dial 666 (M-O-M) when I need to call my mother. She was purchased from a woman who lived with her son, 6 adult dogs, 7 puppies and an Amazon Parrot in a single-wide trailer. If there’s one thing Boy Meets World taught me it’s that I shouldn’t judge people who live in trailers, and I adhere to that rule. I’m just mentioning it to give you a picture of the living conditions.
She looks like an inbred seal pup.
She also looks like internet meme and convicted sexual predator, Brian Peppers.
Thankfully, she’s a great companion to take on walks during those warm, summer evenings. Oh, wait, no she’s not, because she has crippling anxiety when she leaves the property and must be carried. I can’t explain the shame I feel when I walk down the road carrying my leashed dog under my arm like a set of K-Mart luggage I got on clearance. It’s all for the best, really, because to see her walk is something out of a sci-fi movie. Her dainty, chihuahua ankles are met with these giant, hambone Pug thighs and it’s all tied together with a back leg that is significantly shorter than the rest, and so she often keeps it in the air while running.
She’ll never be able to compete with Texas Cyrus, but that’s okay. I’m finally coming to terms with her face. I’m even coming to terms with the fact that for the first time in my life I have a dog whose tail points up, exposing her butthole at all times. It feels so rude and while I know she has no control over it, I can’t shake the feeling that this was done to me on purpose. I just think that I have a dog with an exposed butthole because of something awful I’ve done in a past life.
She’s ugly, she’s dumb, but she’s the sweetest mutt I’ve ever come across. Not only that, but her monstrous underbite is seemingly impossible for a stranger not to comment on, and so she’s been responsible for the occasional moments in which great looking, outdoorsy dudes at the park decide to talk to me. I mean, I essentially split 90% of my waking life on the Internet, at work, behind a book, or at school. When else am I ever going to get an outdoorsy man to talk to me? I don’t even really enjoy nature unless it’s in hi-def and narrated by David Attenborough.
Here’s to you, Princess Puppykinz. I love you, and that’s good because statistically you are going to live for another 12 years or so, unless your freakishly small ankles give way to the rest of your normal sized body and we’re forced to send you on a trip with the Youths in Asia.
Besides, at least she’s cute when she sleeps…