For Dog And Country

Pam: When I was walking Misfit last night that crazy Chihuahua started straining at the leash and boldly yapping away at this huge Great Dane. Good thing that other dog was on a strong leash because he could’ve eaten Misfit in one bite.

Ann: Misfit is clueless about his size.

Pam: Or lack thereof!

Ann: Well, he’s been treated like a king by Kate his whole life. Why shouldn’t he be under the impression he rules all? He really is spoiled isn’t he?

Pam: Yeah and it drives me crazy. I would never wish him harm, but I’m telling you, I’d like to figure out a way for him to live happily ever after—elsewhere.

Ann: There’s nothing worse than a Chihuahua with a superiority complex.

Pam: You can say that again. Once I was telling Kate that Misfit doesn’t know his place. I asked her, “Does he think he’s a human being?” She gasped and told me, “He’s offended by the question!”

Ann: At least Misfit’s little and even though he’s full of himself, you can always overrule him physically. When a big dog gets that kind of attitude it can really be a problem.

Pam: That’s what happened to my mom. When I was little, my dad had a big German Shepherd named Thor. That dog was a real handful for my mom.

Ann: Is that when your family lived on the Air Force Base?

Pam: Yeah. At the time, my dad was an officer in the Strategic Air Command. When he was on “alert” he would have to live in the Alert Shack for days at a time, leaving my mom home with three kids under age six and his big German Shepherd, Thor.

Ann: I’m sure Thor was a good watchdog though, huh?

Pam: My mom didn’t think so. He gave her so much trouble that one day when my dad was away on alert, she called the military police to come “take care” of Thor.

Ann: You’re kidding! She called the MP’s on the DOG? What? Did she expect them to bring four little buckets of cement and give him a ride to the river?

Pam: Hey, you think you’re kidding but she told them to shoot him.

Ann: Would they do such a thing?

Pam: No. They knew it was an officer’s dog and that my mom was just an overwrought housewife. They figured they’d just haul him off and take care of him until my dad was back home.

Ann: So what happened when your dad came home and his dog was gone?

Pam: I’m not sure. I was pretty young. I know she wanted Thor shot and my dad wanted Thor home. But they reached a compromise of some kind.

Ann: How do you know?

Pam: Because a few weeks later we were driving home from church back through the main gate of the base. And guess who was standing at attention at the guard’s side, ears erect, and looking quite regal in his military collar and shiny silver leash?

Ann: Not Thor!

Pam: None other! The MP’s had been so taken with him while they were holding him for my dad, that they convinced my father to allow Thor to join the Military Working Dogs as a guard dog on the base.

Ann: So your dad got to see him and visit with him but your mom didn’t have to put up with him. Good solution. But didn’t you kids miss Thor at home? How did they explain it to you guys?

Pam: That was easy. They just told us that Thor had been drafted!

Ann: Well maybe that’s your solution for your spoiled Chihuahua….Doggy Boot Camp. But I guess Misfit’s too old for military service, huh?