If you read my last post, you know that I was in Michigan last weekend.
What I failed to mention was that we brought Gatsby along for his very first vacation ever. He was getting a little stressed out (read: barking incessantly) by the evil mailman throwing paper through the door on a daily basis and the people in the neighborhood who dare to stroll past our house his fortress. We thought he could use a little R&R.
Turns out the beach isn’t as relaxing as it would seem when you’re a small dog who gets nervous in unfamiliar environments, eats sand, and hyperventilates when he gets wet. For Gatsby, the beach was about as fun as getting his nails trimmed. Lucky for us, there was no biting or loss of bowel control involved.
Here’s what I imagine he was thinking during his sandy adventure:
“Hello0000, McFly! I thought I’ve made it clear that I don’t DO water. Is this some kind of joke? This is a vacation? Someone go get my favorite blanket and a rawhide. Eeee! I think my fragile paw just got a little wet! This shit is bananas. I’m OUT.”
<Shout out to Mad Men for that awesome “Christ on a cracker” catch phrase. Gatsby is a big fan.>
“Screw you guys. Not funny. Now my fur is all messed up and I can’t feel my nether regions. I would bite you if I could only stop shaking. DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU HAVE REDUCED ME TO? This is completely unacceptable. I’m hiding your socks under the bed later. Don’t even try to stop me.”