BackPageFebruary2012

The Wrinkler is published quarterly: February, May, August & November. Deadline for receiving material for publication is the 1st day of the previous month.

The contents of The Rip Van Wrinkler do not necessarily represent the opinions of the editors, or the membership. All rights to reproduce any part of The Rip Van Wrinkler® shall be done solely with the permission of the editors.

The RVW Club is affiliated with the BCOA

The Rip Van Wrinkle Basenji Club & Wrinkler ONLINE: www.rvwbasenjiclub.org

As the Tail Turns

submitted by Chris O'Rear, grabbed from a friend. . .

You know you are a dog person if

You have to slam the door in at least one furry face if you have the slightest hope of ever going to the bathroom by yourself.

You’ve ever apologized to your dog for slamming the bathroom door in his face.

You really don’t care if you go to the bathroom by yourself or not.

Your dog knows you’ll rub his butt while you’re sitting on the toilet.

You are absolutely not embarrassed to have your dog see you get out of the shower.

Your dog has watched you throw up.

The windows in your house are covered with dog nose goobers from 3 feet down
(or from 6 feet down if you own a malinois or a jack russell)

You’ve ever asked your dog, “What should I wear today?” or “Does this look okay?”

You’ve ever put something back in the closet because you thought your dog didn’t like it.

You can sleep through an F5 tornado or a gas line explosion,
but wake in an instant if you hear the dreaded pre-barfing noise in the middle of the night.

You’ve ever stepped on a Nylabone, barefoot, in the middle of the night,
while rushing to let your dog outside because he’s making the pre-barfing noise.

You spend hours pondering the best diet for your performance dog but eat microwave popcorn for your own supper.

You can pick dog hair out of your food without missing a beat,
but nearly lose your lunch if you find a human hair in your sandwich.

You’ve fed your dog cereal off your spoon, then absent-mindedly gone back to eating cereal with the same spoon.

You realize you’ve fed your dog off your spoon . . . then shrug and keep eating.

You’ve sat at work, crying, because you just got an e-mail that a friend’s dog died.

You donate to OTCh., MACH, PAX, PACH and memorial funds the way some people donate to charities.

You have explained - repeatedly - to family members that no,
you cannot attend the birthday party, anniversary party, graduation party,
engagement party, confirmation, family dinner for no good reason,
Mother’s Day/Father’s Day get-together, wedding,
funeral or audience with the Pope,
because you’re entered in a four-day, out-of-state trial that weekend.

Your cupboards are always well-stocked with salmon oil, Cosequin,
Missing Link, Zuke’s treats, Natural Balance rolls, freeze-dried liver
and sweet potato chews but you routinely run out of milk, bread and cereal.

You refuse to drive 20 minutes through a blizzard to get to the office,
but will drive an hour through a blizzard to get to an agility trial.

You’ve ever gone to the emergency room because of a dog-related (but non-dog-bite) accident.

You’ve ever had to explain suspicious bruises to a medical professional
and assured them - repeatedly - that you feel safe in your home.

You’ve ever tried to explain an agility trial to a medical professional while trying to have exercise induced asthma diagnosed.

You’ve had a split lip, black eye, broken nose, rope burn or mild concussion caused by a dog belonging to yourself or a friend.

You’ve asked an auto dealer to take the seats out of a van so you could measure for crate space.

You’ve had days where your only goal was to get home from work
while there’s enough daylight left so you can see to pick up dog poop in the yard.

photo by Jeannette Strand

<previous page> <return to contents>