Dash is the original of these. She is a little Kelpie cross Lab cross Collie. When That Dude I'm Marrying and my roommate finally gave in to my request to adopt a dog about two years ago, had they know Dash would be the result, we'd have driven in the opposite direction. Maybe even moved internationally.
This is the cause of the trouble:
When we went to the Animal Welfare League we wanted to get a puppy but were unable because we weren't home enough for one. Dash was listed as Pet of the Week- she was on special and had been there for months as a stray. No one wanted her. I looked through the wire cage and she stared back at me. The boys told me not to touch her, that I couldn't go petting dogs through fences and if I touched her we'd have to get her. It was too late. I was patting her. We named her Dash for ability to run really, really fast.
We soon learned another thing about Dash. She can jump anything. Like, me, and I'm 6 foot. Fences were a joke to her. And tying her up? Also a joke. She just chews through. If she doesn't chew through it, she rolls in her own poo to punish you for punishing her. And another thing? She really enjoys barking. At anything. She has small dog syndrome and must constantly assert her authority over everything. An ant, the mail man, a mother pushing a pram. Basically she's the worst dog ever. She is so accident prone that she's spent as much of her three year life wearing a cone around her head to stop her biting her stitches as she's spent without it.
This is her with a dinosaur bone from a T-rex she took down earlier.
She once got bit by a flesh eating spider and nearly turned into a zombie dog. Seriously, her leg turned green.
Anyway, the worst thing about Dash is her love of people. That little bitch waits till we're merrily off at work for the day and jumps the fence. In the afternoon the only sign she's been out for the day is meat pie wrappers in the yard, a mysterious ball no one bought her and the occasional surprise bone. She's been spotted hanging out at construction sites, service stations and the train station.
Dash now has a second family at the industrial estate across the road. One day, while frantic with worry searching for her, I wandered from workshop to workshop asking if they'd seen a little black dog.
"Oh Dash, yeah she was here this morning... should be at the smash repairs shop about now."
"Yup, little Dash usually come around at smoko - that's her spot."
I look and see a bowl of water in a shady corner. The ungrateful thing has been cheating on us, bumming food off tradies. Apparently she even does tricks for them! They all know her name from her tag but have given up calling us because they just see her jump back home before we show up in the afternoons.
Dog of the Week my arse.
Oh, but how can I resist this?
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