My Idiot Dog
My dog is an idiot. That’s not a judgement, that’s his breed. His papers say he a Yorkshire Terrier. A Yorkie.
He’s a jerk. His name is Fizzgig. That’s a furry little monster with a lot of teeth from The Dark Crystal. Fizzy was born with too many teeth. The word Fizzgig also means something very loud and not threatening at all, like a firecracker. Or a really stupid dog.
One ear points straight up, the other kowtows to the side, as if standing in a great wind. He has fangs he can’t close his mouth around, so he looks like he’s trying to be a tough guy with a toothpick in his mouth. When he was a pup, he had to have a bunch of excess teeth removed, but his bottom teeth still look like a crowd of nemotodes outside the Krusty Krab. I’m not sure he can actually close his mouth. He apparently got his eyes from Marty Feldman. His only expression is “what the hell am I doing here”. I swear, they said he was a purebred.
Yes, Fizzy was hit by a car once, but he looked this way before that. If anything, the jaunty limp it gave him was an improvement to distract from his actual appearance.
This is a dog that at eleven years old still has not figured out that when someone rings a doorbell on TV, he should not rush to the front door with his pitiful excuse for a tail wagging. When playing with the cats, they will run around from room to room. The cats will then jump on the couch and watch as Fizzgig the idiot continues to chase non-existent cats around the house. The cats will look at each other and you can clearly hear them thinking “what a moron”.
Every night, he likes to look out the glass doors to the backyard to bark at the ghost cat. The ghost cat is when one of the cats walks behind him, he sees the reflection in the glass, and assumes the transparent cat that looks just like the one inside is some sort of supernatural invader. I’m pretty sure the cats know this and do it on purpose.
Fizzy will bark and growl at every threatening leaf that goes by the front door. However, when a delivery from Amazon comes by, and there actually is a human on the front porch, amazingly Fizzgig develops hearing problems. I think he’s afraid he might offend any actual intruders by being too loud.
If a car alarm goes off, suddenly he will stand as a vigilant shaggy statue in the middle of the living room floor and very clearly and politely enunciate the gentle word “woof”. I had never actually heard a dog say that word before we got Fizzgig, but it’s quite clear. He will then sit down, his job done. Until a twig lands on the driveway. Then there is barking, the skidding of toenails across the floor and a massive commotion. This becomes exponentially louder if it is 2AM.
When I go running, I see other runners with their dogs happily trotting with them. Some are cool enough to not even need a leash, and they’re just out for a run with their owner as an equal. OK, so his legs are maybe four inches long, but I figured I would try taking Fizzgig for a run with me. We were walking along as usual, I lengthened the leash and got a whole three strides before he looked at me and deliberately fell over on his side without taking a step. Running was not ever going to happen.
I let this dog out several times a day. No matter how many times I let him out, the same dog returns. I keep waiting for some kind of upgrade, but apparently, there’s no lemon law for dogs. I’m pretty sure this one is defective.