Hot dogs, hot wings, and an old dog
Tex in his favorite position
To say Tex is my favorite pet isn’t fair to those before him, but rescuing, fostering, and adopting him has been a true experience. He is mellow and wise like Yoda. He makes me smile every day. I wanted to return the favor and throw a party for his 12th birthday.
Getting people to West Hollywood is hard. There are parking restrictions and club kids and it’s an overall pain the ass for outsiders. My big idea was to have a Saturday afternoon party and make it a cookout. I distributed the menu and Tex’ gift registry (steer pizzle bones, Happy Hips, and glucosimine tablets). Approximately 30 friends and former coworkers came out to celebrate the wonder of Mr. T and enjoy bratwursts, peach sangria, and a “dog” iTunes playlist.
Outside of his former adoption fairs, I’ve never seen Tex with this large a crowd. He worked it like a whore at a convention. Outside he’d observe the grill say hi to a few people and then collapse in the driveway where everyone gave him belly rubs. Inside he paced the buffet table and made friends with messy kids. Once in a while he’d walk over to his gift bag area and survey his goodies. But the biggest accomplishment was Tex was awake for five hours. This dog loves his sleep, but if there is food and people around, he can’t help himself. He had plenty of opportunities to sneak off to the bedroom and take a disco nap, but he hung in until the last guest left, THEN he climbed into his bed and started snoring 30 seconds later.
Tex in his other favorite position
I realize getting a pet is buying in to a future tragedy. Adopting an old dog can feel like pure insanity. If this is insanity, then I like it. I joke that Tex is my longest of long-term relationships. I’ve done crazy. I’ll take old dog any day.
Happy Birthday!