Know a disabled dog that needs wheels? Why not go all out?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Dog’s Behind Left Behind

Global warming? World hunger? Forget it. Put your money where it really counts--into a set of wheels for Fido.

By Billy Frolick

Shortly after Christmas, I received this email from my cousin:

Dear Friends and Family,

I recently received an email from a woman who rescued a paralyzed dog off of Craigslist.

Now, this was news to me. I had no idea that one could rescue an animal off of Craigslist. Nor, for that matter, did I know that Craigslist was specifically kidnapping paralyzed dogs. I prayed that it was just this one. The message continued:

She is desperate to get a pair of "wheels" for this dog. I get A LOT of emails every day about dogs needing to be adopted and the like, but for some reason this one has touched my heart. This woman is on a fixed income and is taking care of an 88-year-old mother as well. Many would say, "Why would someone of such limited means take on this expense?" For the same reason that so many people take unwanted children they can ill afford. It is a calling that you just can't explain.

I am reaching out to all of you today to help me in getting this dog the help it needs to live out its life fulfilled. The cost of the wheels is approximately $350.

If you would like to help, please contact me.

Love,
Ann

"Dear Ann,” I responded. “What a horrible story… that in a world of genocide, hate crimes, and environmental destruction, this is your Christmas wish?” I continued:

First of all, your timing could be better. I know that Florida is a little retarded (sorry for the politically incorrect terminology) in certain intricate brain functions, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps word hasn’t reached Boca Raton that my union, the Writers Guild of America, has been on strike for two months, with no end in sight. This has not only crippled development and production of television and films, but created significant financial damage for most of the Guild’s 12,000 members. Thus, the holidays have been a little less sweet this year for the children of the WGA. Not only that, but at the rate negotiations are proceeding, these kids are going to be stuck watching the same 12 reruns of “Hannah Montana” until puberty.

But I digress. The question I encourage you to consider, Ann, is this: Is a doggie wheelchair really the best use of $350? Forget about dog fur—how about Darfur? Greenpeace? A Laptop for Every Child? AIDS research? For that matter, how about the dog-lady’s 88 year-old mother? Has anyone asked if she needs a wheelchair?

The sad truth is that if she did, no one would bother sending out an email to raise money for one. Of course not! As a people, Americans are governed by pride, image, and a ceaseless obsession with how things look. Ergo, going begging for one anonymous human being’s physical rehabilitation would undoubtedly seem tacky or trashy. But somehow, hustling up bucks for a woofer’s wheelchair takes on a noble, poetic stature. None of us really believe that we’re all God’s children—we sure don’t act like we do—but as the good folks at Disney taught us years ago, all dogs go to heaven. So, heck, why shouldn’t the pooch go in style, with a pair of pricey hot wheels under its smelly little sphincter?

Now I admit, I may be biased. It’s not that I don’t love dogs. It’s just that, I mean, they are quadripeds. You’d think that having double the number of legs would give them an advantage in the walking department. Maybe the little guy just isn’t applying himself. That’s what I was told in eighth grade, when I kept getting C minuses on the same Algebra test.

But, hey—you know what? It’s Christmas (or, it was recently enough). So I’m not gonna complain if someone wants to pony up for the paralyzed pup.

It’s just not gonna be me. You see, my son’s birthday is coming up—and he really needs a Wii.

If you would like to help, please contact me.

Love,
Billy

 

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Contributing editor Billy Frolick’s last piece was Armed and Lame-Ass.

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