On the other you could get born up north in Alaska and be a dog that trains every day and then eventually pull a sled through the cold in the Iditarod. If these two dogs ever ran into each other the sled dog is going to be super irritated.
*sled dog slams another whisky shot
“Tell me again what the lowest temperature is in Puerto Rico?”
*sled dog throws the empty shot glass against the wall, gets on Kayak.com and books a one way ticket.
With these cats it’s the same thing. You can have a great life, outside in Peurto Rico. Or even a nice life living like a lot of cats do in a home as the only cat, indoors with a man with low testosterone. On the other hand you could be adopted by a crazy lady who has a hundred cats.
It’s just the luck of the draw.
The coolest dog we’ve ever owned was Jessica’s dog Floyd. A lot of people think dogs are dumb but Floyd was extremly smart. He was an escape artist. He’d be laying on the ground inside of a fence and then all of the sudden we would look out and he would be running down the street. We think he actually opened the latch with his paws to get out. There’s no telling how he got the straight jacket off that I had put on him, and unlocked those tiny padlocks, though.
For real though, we had to install an invisible (electrified) fence in our home in NY because Floyd kept escaping. With an “invisible fence” the dog wears a collar around his neck and when he walks to the perimeter of the “fence” where the wire is buried, it shocks him. And I don’t mean it tells him something unbelieveable like “hey, Bill Cosby isn't a rapist” or “broccoli actually has more protein then chicken.” I mean an actual electric shock. My invention of the shock collar that just says shocking things was never effective as the dog would just raise his eyebrows and then still take off running down the street.
The brand we had was an “Invisible” fence, because you’re unable to see that the owners have any compassion for their animal. I still feel bad that we had to install that fence but Floyd kept escaping and we didn't want him to get hit by a car. If he was going to die it was going to be by a heart attack brough on by an electric shock, not from some strange vehicle.
The fence seemed to be working quite well, in the sense that, every time I opened the door, Floyd was there in the yard, ready to come in. I had noticed lately though though that Floyd seemed really out of breath and sometimes dirty when he came back inside. And our yard wasn’t that big, and I didn't see that he had dug any holes anywhere.
One day I was looking out the window and I saw Floyd standing near the edge of the fence. He looked both ways, took a deep breath, almost like he was psyching himself up for something.... and then leapt throught the invisible fence... yelping a little as he handled the shock. Then he went running off down the street. I guess he had been weighing the momentary pain of an electric shock with a night on the town.
I didn't chase after him. Instead, I waited a while. Finally he came back and did the same thing he did when he left. Waiting at the edge, then pumping himself up and launching himself through the fence. Once back inside the yard he seemed totally fine.
We called the Invisible fence people and they said they could adjust the strenght of the current from “regular' where we had it set to “capitol punishment” and the care of the problem. We ended up just turning the fence off and still having him wear the collar. He seemed to be able to handle himself pretty well out there on his own. And at least he was coming back home. He really was a superdog.
It didn’t leave a mark but I was afraid to leave the yard from that day on.
We miss you Floyd.