Thursday, April 3, 2008

The Stinky Binky

Sometimes it's not easy to say goodbye.

This is Jake's binky. It's his favorite buddy. He snuggles with it at night, in a somewhat creepy way. He drags it about the house much like my little sister dragged her favorite dolly around when we were kids. Anyway, it's been stitched, washed, and duct-taped within an inch of its life. It is time for the nice trashman to take it away to live at Uncle Kevorkian's farm.

Jake has another binky, a much nicer, more presentable one, but he's passed it over in favor of this icky swamp-gas thing. We all make our choices, I guess. For whatever reason, Jake had been faithful to this old heap of smell. Taking it away from him wouldn't be easy, but its odor had begun to attach itself to the house, creating a stench entity that threatened to permeate the very beams of our dwelling. In other words, it stank.

Much like my ex-husband, its time had come to go. We planned some exciting entertainment to keep Jake preoccupied and happy. Events such as 'dinner,' and 'more dinner.' Eventually it would sink in that his stinky binky had gone to the great trash dump in the sky. Until then we'd be there to help him through this painful process.

With Jake, the main thing was to avoid laughing at him. Napoleonic runt-terrier that he is, he can spot a suppressed snicker from across the room. If anyone so much as smirks, he's in their face barking furiously. Last month, when the groomer shaved most of his body, except for his head and tail, he resembled a furry black Q-tip. Knowing he looked drafty and ridiculous, Jake would stare at us, searching our eyes for the first sign of a giggle. We would twist ourselves silly in an effort not to laugh in front of him, ducking eye contact, trying to make it out of the room before letting loose with a guffaw. I thought a macho sweater would help his drafty situation, but it sure didn't help us to keep a straight face.

Now his beloved, drool-soaked binky was leaving, and if we laughed at him he'd rip our lips off. And yes, I checked - the Dog Whisperer doesn't cover binky disposal in any of his episodes.

My sons put on hazmat gear (bicycle helmets, ninja swords and clown masks), sang some sort of quirky sea chanty, and deposited the binky in the trash can. I distracted Jake with food and his other somewhat less-offensive binky.

He's fine with it. Although he's requested more duct tape for his current binky. And a black leather collar with big studs in it. And a corvette.

2 comments:

Meditrina said...

I am notifying PETA of your inhumane treatment and humiliation of this poor creature, at my earliest convenience, say..... 2069. ;-)

Hugo said...

found this 'round dave barry's blog, now i will comment -- hilarious!