More than ever, I’ve been posting up items that I have put on my wishlist for when I get my canine companion. The dream of pup-ownership has taken a hold of me so much so, in fact, that this week I wrote five emails to folks on Craigslist inquiring as to the transfer of ownership from them to me. Sure, it is probably a better idea to head to a shelter, have a consultation with the dog, see if we’re a match, then take the critter home after he’she’s been fixed and microchipped. But I am looking for something in particular. I need a hound that will be okay at home during the day while I toil away at the office. I need one that will enjoy going to the mountains on the weekend. I need one that will get along with the family lab, as I see her quite often too. It is due to these reasons that Craigslist has become so integral as I rely on the current owner to fully describe the dog’s mannerisms.
Aside from the crippling loneliness I currently feel, equipping Phillip (name pending) with a Survival Strap Collar may prove to save my life should the need arise. For whatever sick reason, I foresee me and him trekking through the forest, as I am want to do, when suddenly, out of nowhere, BAM! I fall off a cliff. I’m hanging there, lil Phillip peering out from over the edge: “Phillip! Lower your neck! Oh that’s a good boy. Oh yes you are. Oh, YES you are! Give me that collar…” Click! Whip! PULL! With all my might I pull my Arc’teryx-draped body from that cliff, romp around in the snow with glee with the dog, and live to regale my family back home with the tale. “It was all thanks to Phillip, yes it was. And for all your hard work, friend? My table scraps…” That seems like a terrible deal. But he’s just a dog. He can sleep in my bed tonight.