Roxy, the Family Pooch
Yes, I am a dog person. I can talk for hours on end about the exploits of the little animal that lives in my house and thrill any other dog person within hearing. Non-dog people think we're insane. Cat people look down their noses at us. You know what cat people always have in their house? A box of cat shit. Give me a nice smelly dog any day.
Right after Sonya and I moved back to Memphis from college we decided to get a dog. We went to the Memphis Humane Society, but our apartment at the time had size limits for pets. If they hadn't we would have come home with a weimaraner .
So we hop in the car and go to the West Memphis animal shelter - a lovely place out by the levee. They had a pig but we chose not to adopt it. A big pig. A big, black pig. I would have looked cool walking a pig down Front Street. But we didn't get it. They also had some litter-mates. A tiny, black barking thing, a fuzzy blond stupid pup, and this gorgeous little terrier - brown, white socks, black nose. She was kind of shy, sitting near the back of the pen, looking at me and Sonya hopefully. I asked to pick her up. The girl working there handed her to me. I crossed my arms and she buried her nose in the crook of my elbow. Sold!
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It's an adventure, living with a terrier. She's as smart as most people and she feels the need to prove her intelligence by taking toilet paper out of the garbage can (or just grabbing the end of it on the roll) and running through the house with it. It's really cute the first two-hundred times. She hates dogs bigger than her - and seeing a 12-pound terrier snap and bark at a full-grown rottweiler is a thing to behold. She likes smaller dogs because she feels superior to them. She is addicted to Meaty Bones and will do almost anything to attain one. And she loves to use the bathroom in front of city hall. Roxy is notoriously apolitical. |
 Note the near-genius intelligence in her eyes. |
I'd give you her e-mail address, but Roxy does not receive mail. Deal with it.
