Bridget

Let me tell you about Bridget. Bridget is my dog. We had a Border Collie when the kids were young but when the dog was shot by one of the farmers in the area where we lived we resisted getting another dog until Kira was in high school. I had always said, we live in the city and it wouldn't be fair to a dog. Dogs leave hair everywhere and they poop in the yard. Finally I said that we would get a dog IF it was free, had short hair, was small and everyone signed a contract to pick up the poop. That held them off for years until that fateful day on April 1, 1999. Kira's friend had a Beagle that had a litter of puppies and now I was stuck. That is how we got Bridget. Of course I'm the only one who picks up the poop. Bridget was a hyperactive puppy and ran all over the place but she has one fatal flaw, she eats continuously and since we were used to just keeping the cats dish full we did the same with Bridget. In a very short time she became very fat and to make things worse she has very painful joints. I took her to a vet who said that her sore joints were either arthritis or some congenital problem (I don't remember what she called it). She told me that for a mere $250 she could take an x-ray and tell me what the problem was. I asked her what we could do for the poor dog. She said there was nothing we could do. I then, very politely, told her that I wasn't about to spend $250 if there was nothing I could do for the dog. So we have a lazy dog that can hardly move, she cries once in a while because of the pain (we give her Ibuprofen) and all she wants to do is eat. We take her on a walk and we end up carrying her home. To top it off she has this massive mutant mole on her right hind leg that grosses everyone out. So Lisa forwards me an email one day that has a link to a real age test for your dog. With my poor decrepit Bridget you can imagine that I couldn't pass up this test. I swear I answered every question honestly. When they asked if I take her to the vet I answered "never", when they had the pictures of the different sizes of dogs I selected the "fat" dog. When they asked what kind of dog food I fed her I selected "the one on sale". When they asked if she ate garbage I said "yes". You can imagine my surprise when they came back and said that Bridget was an equivalent of 52 years old and almost a full year younger than the average beagle her age. I hope that means that I'll have my dog around for a few more years but if she pee's on the carpet again I might just toss her into the canyon.