Indulge me here, while I vent. Years ago, when I enrolled a deaf Dalmatian in sign language school and asked the trainer why I always get the challenging pets, she smiled and said, “You know why? Because you have ‘sucker’ plastered all over your face.” I paid her for that. But it explains why, when we had an opening here at Chez Poodle, Poodle Rescue had a replacement for us in under 24 hours. And it was a parti poodle.
As my husband, John, explained when I asked how they make parti poodles, they’re an accident. A two-colored accident. My most vivid association with the term was a wine-tasting event in the hills somewhere, to which a woman had brought two parti poodles. She opened the back door of her SUV and the dogs joyfully debarked, taking off down the hill with her screaming after them, “Get back here!!!” They didn’t.
John texted me the other day: “You know how you love pink poodles? Bosco got your Magic Marker.” Bosco is our parti poodle. And we drink more wine now. The Magic Marker was small potatoes compared to his pushing the knob on our gas range and igniting Nutty’s plastic food bowl which, had we not been home at the time, might have burned the house down. But I think we’d have been OK because Bosco is an accident and our homeowners’ insurance covers us for accidents.
So I’ve started itemizing, because surely our carrier will ask for a list: two headsets, four rugs, two kitchen chair cushions, a couple of retractable pencils, a garden drip system, a new beaded necklace… And then there are the cliché puppy things: toilet paper, slippers, the waste basket. Happy hour can’t come too soon.
All things considered, Bosco is in his forever home. Unless he burns it down.