Listen… go to a gathering… pay attention. Oh. I can’t believe
how much these shoes cost? Outrageous. I mean… it’s a good thing we
have the money. What do poor people do? I feel sorry for them. Poor
dears. Missing out on the essentials. Why… it’s downright
uncivilized.
And then there’s Froo Froo the Poodle. Is she any different, I ask
you? Are her needs any less important? She too has appearances to
keep up with. She goes to the salon bi-monthly. There’s the nail
clipping… the bows… the cuttings… the fur-styling. Why…
Bijoux over at the next table… that little bitch of a Yorkie…
always flaunting her amenities. She holds her nose up high while
they comb her out. She barely utters a yelp or even the slightest
bark when her fur is knotted and her handler has to yank–perhaps a
little sadistically–in order to create that silken smoothness for
which she is so well known. And that collar… that shiny new
leather trinket studded with rhinestones. It is to die from.
Well… let me tell you something. Froo Froo has decided not to take
it any longer. A body can endure only so much. She has her pride. She
has her dignity. She has her breeding. Why… she did not wet the
carpeting once the whole month. She held it in for hours while her
mistress took her own sweet time powdering her nose and putting on
her nail polish–not that Froo Froo didn’t have her own nail
polish… a rather attractive bright red if the truth were to be
told. And then… almost as an afterthought… her mistress calls
the housekeeper. I would like Froo Froo walked now if you please.
Around the block once should do it. And don’t let her try to get
acquainted with other dogs’ derrieres. One never knows what trouble a
well bred poodle can get into when smelling the back sides of the
local riff-raff.
Right then and there Froo Froo let one and all know she wanted a new
collar. Nothing too fancy. Just something a notch or two above that
of Bijoux… that utter utter snob of a Yorkie. And so Froo Froo
shook her old collar off and chewed it beyond recognition. And when
they bought her that new one which was not to her liking–did they
think she was a commoner–she bared her teeth a growled at them…
scaring them down to their little silky Ralph Lauren’s. Till they
finally got the hint.
A dog has to learn to control her owners or she is nothing. And so
she smiled with smug self-satisfaction… and even allowed just the
slightest growl of glee to escape from her jowls when she saw her new
collar. A Tiffany original if you can believe such a thing. Froo Froo
looked closely at the markings. Circa 1904. An elegant antique in
Renaissance-style grillwork with pastel pink and green enamel and
diamonds and pearls and turquoise too. Oh… she couldn’t wait to see
that little bitch’s face. Bijoux would be simply mortified. She would
not be able to contain her jealousy. If Froo Froo knew anything…
she knew the temperament of Yorkies. That poor excuse for a purebred
would surely defecate right on the groomer’s table out of envy. Froo
Froo couldn’t wait. She pranced into the salon and yelped with the
joy given to society’s elite.
Rumor has it that Bijoux never recovered from the shock for she was
never seen again after having been banned from the salon for having
ruined… simply ruined the groomers brand new table… never mind
the rancid stench that lingered in the premises for weeks.
For those of you who are new to this thing called Tidbits…may I
direct you to my home page at www.tyler-adam.com where you will
scroll down the left side menu till you get to the area that says
Current Tidbits… and then click on it in order to view a Dog Collar
made by Tiffany in 1904 and quite possible worn by an elegant
shmelegant poodle named Froo Froo.
And there ya have it.
That’s it for this week folks.
Catch you all next week.
Benjamin Mark