Dogs Should Not Wear Galoshes

Do not put boots on your dog. Dogs do not like boots. If you put boots on your dog, your dog will attempt to chew your face off. Even if you are successful in defending yourself from the attack of a pissed off poodle in rain boots, I can assure you there is no amount of pleading that will convince the traumatized canine to come out from behind the heavy ass couch that she crawled under to escape you and the torture of galoshes.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. How many awful stories start out with that line? I thought I was acting in her best interests. It was out of love that I sacrificed one of my Playtex Living Gloves to make rain boots for the Poodle.

I was pleased when the severed digits slid easily over each of her paws. They were yellow. I made yellow galoshes out of my rubber gloves for the dog because I love her. I wanted to spare her the discomfort of walking on wet carpet. I hated to see the tiny pads of her feet shriveled like raisins. I worried that the chemicals from the steam cleaner were hazardous to her health. I tried to put myself in her place. Wouldn’t walking around with wet furry paws be similar to wearing wet socks? I hate wet socks.

When the boots did not fit quite right, I used tape to affix them to her legs. Blue painters tape because it is “low tack”. Easy to remove from poodle fur when the carpet was dry. I try to think of everything. For about ten seconds I was proud of myself. She even looked somewhat cute, in a white trash doublewide trailer kid sort of way. You know it is true. Kids who live in trailers wear bread sacks on their feet for boots, or was that just me? Anyway, they looked cute.

I sat her down on the floor. She flattened out like a bearskin rug, refusing to bear weight on her extremities. No amount of cajoling would convince her to move. I turned my back only for a second. That was all the time it took for her to crawl across the floor on her belly like a lizard and slither under the couch. She stayed there refusing to move. I had visions of her chewing off her own feet in an attempt to escape the Playtex Wellies. I also had visions of astronomical vet bills for the mobility cart I would be forced to buy for the poodle with no feet. The thought of explaining this to the SPCA in an attempt to avoid prosecution for animal abuse was frightening. I was only trying to help. I love her!

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I went for the cheese. Vivian is usually not allowed cheese. She loves it. It makes her sick. I have white carpet. No cheese. What else could I do? I attempted to lure her out with a cheese trail. Two slices later she still would not move. I gave up. I was distraught. I finished cleaning the carpet and threw myself on the sofa and waited. She couldn’t stay under there forever could she?

Minutes later it started. Hckkk..Hckkk..Hckkk…The sound that strikes fear in the heart of every pet owner. The sound of a barfing dog. Dammit! Damn the cheese! Hckkk..Hckkk..Hckkk.. She shot out from under the couch at full speed the horror of the galoshes momentarily forgotten. When she reached the center of the room she realized they were still there. She was spinning in circles like a bull at the rodeo. A three pound bull in yellow boots. HCKKHCKKKHCKKK…I tried to catch her. I did. However, it was too late. The damage was done. Remnants of processed cheese food were all that remained. The look on her face was that of odd satisfaction. For good measure, she peed.

Do not put boots on your dog.

Out-T.