My Dog Munch
I’m going to be up-front and honest: I am one of those Crazy Dog People (CDP). My little pooch is named Munch; he’s a rescue dog who practically leaped into my arms when I visited the shelter, three pounds of shivering furry goodness. I’d always had a soft spot for critters, but Munch was my first pet and I just fell in love with the little booger the moment he slobbered all over me, and now I am full-on CDP. Munch is basically one of my children. I cook for him, buy him clothes, and take him everywhere.
Munch isn’t the most attractive dog. His hair is kind of patchy and all over the place, like a Muppet’s, he never stops shivering – never – and he often smells less-than-ideal. Again, just like my children. Unlike my children, who are increasingly picky and grouchy as they get older, Munch remains as sweetly dedicated to me as ever. Where my children often seem gleefully eager to escape me, Munch pines for me when I’m not home. Where my children have to be threatened before eating the nutritious and tasty meals I prepare for them, Munch gobbles everything up with the trusting relish of the Always Hungry.
I can’t say exactly when I started carrying Munch around with me, but today I don’t go anywhere without him shivering away in a bag. He took to it like a creature that always knew it was his destiny to be carried around like a king. Often when it’s time to go grocery shopping or to stand in line at the bank, I’ll find Munch already nestled in his carrying bag, ready to go. People always asked me if this was safe, and until the day I lost him at the supermarket, I always said absolutely. Actually, even after that day it’s safe enough – now that I have my Paw Tote Clear Bag.
It was simple: I was at the market hunting for the only brand of peanut butter my children will eat, and I put Munch down for a moment. I didn’t realize he was no longer in the bag until I was at the checkout – Munch barely weighs anything. A frantic two-minute search turned him up, cowering amongst the potted plants they always have on sale, and all was well. But it got me thinking, and then searching, and when I saw the Paw Tote Clear Bag I knew I’d found my solution. It became Munch’s personal carrying bag, and now I can always see at a glance that the only grateful child I have is still with me. He often likes to sit up with his paws over the side, taking in the sights, but sometimes he’ll nap in there, and I can always see him, shivering away.
I’ve floated the idea of carrying my kids in bags, too, but for some reason no one thinks that’s a good idea.
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