Not Really A Guest Mock: An Open Letter to People Who Dress Up Their Pets
He doesn’t write here regularly, so it’s kind of a guest mock – but he’s been a Surf Reporter for at least 20 years longer than me so who the hell am I to call him a “guest”? Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls – I give you the Angry White Guy:
Dear people who dress up their pets:
What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have deep need for a child so badly that you need to put your dog or cat in a dress….or a cloak….or a bonnet …for your own twisted satisfaction and photo-op needs. Yes, take a picture, plaster it all over the ‘net. We will all look at it, snicker for a few seconds and then think what a fantastic loser you must be in order to purchase this outfit with your pet in mind, go through the ritual of braving the razor sharp claws to dress Fluffy, and get that snapshot before said animal runs under the bed and plots ways to get at your jugular vein while you are sleeping.
My son made friends one time with a kid from a fairly well-to-do family. They often invited us over to dinner for shit like snails (with a cucumber based dipping sauce) and quail eggs…things I would never eat if my life depended upon it. However, that was not the worst eccentricity they possessed. They had two poodles, Ricky and Lucy (why should I disguise their names, Ricky and Lucy will never read this) that were brother and sister. Upon the first visit with the Trumps (OK, not their real name…I always referred to them as gay Dad and lesbian Mom to my wife, who hated my characterization of them), they politely introduced us to Ricky and Lucy. (“AngryWhiteGuy and Child Bride, meet Ricky and Lucy…Ricky and Lucy, this is AngryWhiteGuy and Child Bride”). Yes, the introduction went EXACTLY that way. I looked down and saw two poodles the size of sheep with fucking berets on their heads. So I laughed, thinking that the Trumps might just have a sense of humor and dressed the Ricardos in berets to break the ice. Lesbian Mom looked at me as if I had worn brown shoes with blue pants (which I had) and seemed to think I had no fashion sense (which I don’t) regarding my choice of shoes and her effeminate dogs’ choice of headgear.
So the evening uncomfortably lingered until snail and quail appetizers were picked over. Dinner was served. I had this fear…yes! I was correct, it was lamb. How could I pretend to eat lamb at the white linen adorned table? I couldn’t. I had passed on the snail and quail and stuck with the ass flavored cheese assortments. I noticed a smaller table next to the big table. I figured it was for the smaller children, my daughter and their adopted Sudanese child (trendy!). Then, I noticed eight place settings at the table. No way! Yes, it was true, the Ricardos were joining us for dinner. Gay Dad lisped “Ricky! Lucy!” and they had been dressed to the nines for dinner. They trotted out in red vests and kilts. Ricky also had a bow tie and a top hat, while Lucy had a sleek looking tiara meshed into her fur. They took their places at the little table and the well-to-do couples’ maid, Rose, brought them each a freshly cooked piece of liver, and placed it in their nicely labeled (with their names) china bowls on the small table.
The evening dragged on and after dessert, (French Silk pie and phlegm, or maybe it was flan, of course) Ricky and Lucy were put into nightgowns and caps for bedtime. This was the first of many dinners, and costume changes, with these psychopaths that I had to endure, until my son decided that their kid (no doubt created out of pressure from the grandparents) was just a spoiled little punk, and he wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
If you are the guy that photographs those big brown hounds for a living, or the woman that dresses up the babies and makes calendars for a living, I have nothing against you. That’s your niche and you found a way to capitalize on the system to become rich. Good for you. If you dress your pets because you think the animals actually like it, you are a delusional basket case and I believe you need therapy. I know you’re out there. The pets don’t like to be dressed up. Just ask them. I’m sure you will hear them answer you.
By the way, have I shown you the Christmas photo of our cat dressed as Mrs. Santa Claws? It’s priceless.
Sincerly,
AWG
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Thank you….
Just when I was considering matching outfits for the schnauzers…damn. Yes, I realize I was being silly, maybe even a touch full on ridiculous. Still….those UGA Cheerleader outfits at Fred’s were pretty darned cute.
I met a woman once that told me her dog never left the house without anything on. She said the outfits helped the dog’s self esteem. I don’t know which is scarier–her giant dog wearing there ridiculous outfits or the fact that this woman truly believed her dog had self esteem that was actually affected positively by these clothes.
Pet people are a unique breed of crazy…
The AWG is always entertaining. I just wish he would write more frequently.
AWG – funniest mock I have read in many a moon. Love the subject and your way with words. ” Lesbian Mom looked at me as if I had worn brown shoes with blue pants (which I had) and seemed to think I had no fashion sense (which I don’t) regarding my choice of shoes and her effeminate dogs’ choice of headgear.” made me choke on my dinner!!
And I can say this as a person who dresses their pets. My 2 little fluffy mystery dogs are currently wearing their hoodies (pink with polka dots and the other red with white bones) – it is very cold here tho. My lab corgie mix (I wanna know how they did it too) always wears a jaunty scarf with the appropriate theme. Gone is his Christmas scarf – on goes his John Deere. My big 17 pound cat has a tie with a windsor knot that he loves (not).
Why do I do this, you might ask? Sometimes (not often) it is practical (dog is small, weather is cold/wet) but mostly it is because it makes them look ridiculous! And they don’t even know it! But now I know I should be also dressing them for dinner. I have done Halloween costumes. I did not know how passe that was. I need doggie formals, tuxes and tiaras! If they weren’t all snipped we could do a wedding or sumthin! You have opened up a whole new world for me!
Love your Santa Claws.
I used to have this t-shirt for my dog that said, “No Whining” on it. We called it the Punishment Shirt. As in, “Scoot your ass across the carpet one more time and it’s into the Punishment Shirt for you!” Usually that got her on the straight and narrow.
I wish I had written this! I once got in an argument with my bitch ass boss over which was more lame, her dressing her dogs or the fact that mine has a middle name that I use regularly.
Oops. The last one was me.
For many reasons, there’s no update today. I take full responsibility and suggest that you, in lieu of reading one of my posts, look at a medical journal or something else that’s not funny for 15 minutes or so. Hopefully Jeff will be in tomorrow with something good. Thanks – metten
I actually used to play hockey with this guy when I lived in NYC:
http://www.wegmanworld.com/
He’s really nice, and a pretty good player, but I always thought the dress-up photos were weird.