Pets rule my white house
Right up there with the Sarah Palin news trifecta (1: She spent >$150k on clothing; 2: She doesn't know Africa is a continent; 3: It's a tossup between the NAFTA thing and the Russia thing, but it doesn't matter, any three blame-game items will do), the media can't stop talking about President-elect Barack Obama's first Presidential promise to his daughters to adopt a dog to live with the family in the White House.
It's great news that the Obamas will continue the long-standing tradition of keeping pets in the White House. So whether they end up with a goofy, happy-go-lucky kind of dog, or a more disciplined, working personality, just because this pet will live where it does with whom it does, I'm sure it will exhibit many picture-perfect pet-dog qualities such as loyalty and obedience, and respect for its owner, because that is the kind of dog the President of the United States deserves.
While the rest of us, we get this:
This is the kind of crap I come home to at night. My pets don't even leave me a place to sleep. Animals on the bed, animals on both my pillows. If I had a wide-angle lens, you would also be able to see animals sleeping on my stacks of clean laundry.
Not Presidential in the least.
But while I'm here, I can't pass up the opportunity to suggest that the Obamas audition a retired racing greyhound during their search. Contrary to the behavior of my particular stubborn hound, they can be taught a quantum of respect.
It's great news that the Obamas will continue the long-standing tradition of keeping pets in the White House. So whether they end up with a goofy, happy-go-lucky kind of dog, or a more disciplined, working personality, just because this pet will live where it does with whom it does, I'm sure it will exhibit many picture-perfect pet-dog qualities such as loyalty and obedience, and respect for its owner, because that is the kind of dog the President of the United States deserves.
While the rest of us, we get this:
This is the kind of crap I come home to at night. My pets don't even leave me a place to sleep. Animals on the bed, animals on both my pillows. If I had a wide-angle lens, you would also be able to see animals sleeping on my stacks of clean laundry.
Not Presidential in the least.
But while I'm here, I can't pass up the opportunity to suggest that the Obamas audition a retired racing greyhound during their search. Contrary to the behavior of my particular stubborn hound, they can be taught a quantum of respect.
Labels: greyhounds, obama, pets
posted by Jen S. at
11:16 AM
2 Comments:
Oh cute! I can relate, my little adopted mutt sleeps wherever she damn well pleases, and that's always in the middle of a nest of my covers. It's not even worth making the bed anymore, because she'll unmake it for her own comfort. Wouldn't have it any other way. I love the idea of adopting a greyhound! But in general, adopting is always the way to go (at least for me.) Glad to see someone else indulges their faithful friends as much as I do!
By
Andrea, At
November 11, 2008 7:43 PM
Yes, adoption all the way!
Last night when I got to bed, Maple (the dog in the photo) was stretched out across the pillows at the top of the bed, on top of the blankets. I was too tired to do anything, so I grabbed another blanket and slept at the bottom of the bed. I'm definitely not the alpha sometimes. ;)
By
Jen S., At
November 11, 2008 8:12 PM
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