I went to the store with momma. It was not such a wonderful trip. I was there to see the gerbils. You know, I love them, but the deal is I can only visit them at the store. [Ehmmm Sarah, do you see what I have to deal with? Mrs. Darby, I think momma is a breedist.]
But back to my issues...
No, I am not being a snob or anything, but I do have some issues. Actually my issues are really a reaction to what I call poor manners by some hoomans. I am not being difficult, I have manners. I simply expect everyone to have them as well.
1. I don't come over and sniff and lick you, so why do you think you can come over and paw me? I could be a biter! I am not exactly thrilled by strangers pawing at me, without even an introduction. I have no idea who you are or where your
2. Do I ask how old you are? NO! So what is the inquisition routine for? A lady never tells her age! What if I did not want that red poodle to know my age? Hm? And what is it to you anyway? MANNERS!!!!
3. And this next question was UBER rude....I mean UBER RUDE... "is she "FIXED"?"
FIXED??????!!!!! I was never broken!!! And do I ask you about your reproductive system? I am no working girl, I am a proud rescued dog. But ... let's say I was offended.. I am not ready or willing to share such degree of intimate information with any stranger... How would you like it if I ask you about your reproductive system? Again... MANNERS!!!!
4, And now the ultimate outrage question....She is a rescued dog? What's wrong with her?" SERIOUSLY???? The only thing that was wrong with me was a stoopid greedy hooman who wanted to breed me into the grave. The idea that any rescued dog necessarily has something wrong... is the fallacy that fuels overbreeding and greeders. [breeders who breed for greed]. Well... just so you know, I did not have to ask what is wrong with you. I knew. You lack manners and brains. Now, be gone and let me play with the gerbils... Auntie Robin... thank you for screening our adopters. This person would never qualify.