I've decided that for the upcoming NHL play-offs, my dog will have blue and/or green hair. That's right, I am going to colour my dog. Yes, that is "colour", with a "U"; and yes, the Canucks ARE going to the play-offs this year. How dare you roll your eyes at me?
Is it any of your business? Hardly. You can't control your dog enough to come back to you when you call, and you talk to me like I am torturing my dog. You must be the same breed as those people who don't let me scruff my own dogs. There is extra skin there. Here's the deal: I love my dog. I probably spend more time with this dog in a week than you do in a month. I would never hurt him- it's not a peroxide bleach- it's a vegetable based semi-permanent dye. Of course, if you stopped and maybe asked "Is it safe?" in a alarmed way, instead of acting disgusted and giving me the cold shoulder, than you would already know that. Are you still disgusted? Of course you are. Because my poor, abused animal might develop a complex about the colour of his hair, right? Sure, he's aware of his colour. His midlife crisis was when the puppy spots on his back faded out. Give me a break. All the other dogs will laugh at him. All the other colour blind dogs.
You know what? Dogs aren't like that. You might be. Dogs aren't. When's the last time you saw a dog stop and laugh, or turn away in disgust from another dog because of his colour, clothes, number of legs, or number of eyes? No, that's a human thing.
Aren't we blessed to be a part of this species?
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