So I bought a new dog bed over the Internet for my dog Molly. And today, three weeks later, it finally came in the mail. It’s called a calming bed and Molly can use a little calming. They gave me a tracking number so I could watch its daily journey to my house and please don’t tell the president, but the trip started out in China. Each stop on the way was carefully recorded. It made five stops before it finally made it its way out of China. There is an old adage about a slow boat to China but this appeared to be a slow boat from China. At last though it was on an airplane and on its way here and it got in the good old U.S.A, where it took six days to get to Crosslake Minnesota. Seems China isn’t the only place with slow boats.
A friend asked me if I trusted the manufacture that it wasn’t made with harmful materials. “It is made in China,” she said. Just for the heck of it I looked at the tag in the back of my underwear and it says made in China. Not sure if that’s relevant or not, dog bed-- verses boxer shorts,-- but I’m throwing it out there just for argumentative conversation. Realizing now where this conversation could be headed lets just move on here.
I examined the package and it was about the size of a basketball wrapped tightly in plastic and tape. Inside of there was a 54-inch oval dog bed. I don’t want to meet the person who squeezed that bed into that shape and that size but be that as it may be, he’s hopefully in China and I have no plans to go there. I picked away with my scissors at the tape and plastic and then like the old jack-in-the box or an exploding Claymore mine, out shot Molly’s calming bed. I fluffed it up and then replaced her old bed, which was seven years old with her new bed. Not wanting to have any issues with the old bed versus the new one, I took it downstairs and put it the laundry room. I’d deal with it later.
It’s now three hours later and my dear dog has not so much as given her new bed a cursory glance. In fact she’s now lying on the end of my bed where she doesn’t belong. Things are getting more heated now. I banish her from my bedroom giving her the old sob story about how I grew up sleeping in the attic on a straw bed while my poor dog slept outside under the back steps with the spiders and she should be damn happy with things now days. Ungrateful canine. Dogs now days just have it too easy. I wonder if there’s such a thing as millennial dogs. For sure she’s not part of the greater generation. Good thing I had her fixed she would have been a terrible mother. So for the rest of the day I just dropped the subject. I’ll show her who’s the boss around here. Going shopping tomorrow and there just might be a bag of ‘Old Roy’ in the cart instead of that fancy food she’s been eating. Might take her along and stop at the dog pound and let her see the poor unfortunate pooches sleeping on the wet concrete floor who would give their left canine tooth for a shot at that calming bed. But for now I’m just going to call her bluff and pretend nothings bothering me.
Finally time for bed, so last call for potty time. Can’t find her where is she? You guessed it. Down in the laundry room fast asleep on her old bed.
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