Nuka vs. PetSmart

     Last Saturday, I took Nuka to PetSmart.  Not a big deal, plenty of people bring their dogs to PetSmart.  I don't though, I don't bring my dogs to PetSmart.  Well, not all of them anyway, not Nuka.

     No, not Nuka.

     I considered myself both too wise and too timid to attempt such an unheard of feat, however, there is plenty in my life that suggests otherwise, plenty that says, yes, yes you are that stupid, yes, you are that brave.  So just go for it, man, just do it, take your bad, unruly, 100 pound ball of crazy to a busy pet store on a Saturday.

     I did it.

     She was excited to go in the car, she was even more excited when she realized that she was the only dog getting in the car.  What does this mean?  Her brown, deceptive eyes met mine in the rear view mirror.  The vet?  Another case of abandonment? 

     The automatic doors freaked her out a bit, but after the initial terror, she entered the wonderful, magical world of PetSmart and all of the hidden wonders therein.

     First we looked at the fish, but the many dogs wandering around were too much of a distraction for her to spend long in this strange, watery world.  Can I swim in there?  Her gigantic head tilted to the side.  How do I drink out of this square water receptical?
     Much to my horror, the first dog to greet Nuka was a small Carin terrier.  Nuka often thinks that creatures smaller then she is are either toys to be squeaked and shaken or prey, prey that needs to be hunted down and dealt with promptly.  It's a good thing for the terrier that she wasn't in motion because the puffy red plaid jacket she was wearing would have made her easy pickings.
     But no, not here, here in this enchanted land, the terrier in the red plaid jacket remained a small terrier.  A cute, friendly dog, coming to meet my large dog of questionable temperment.  I gripped the leash, my hands shook from the force.  Somewhere, far, far away I could hear a strange voice, perhaps my own, assuring the very sweet middle aged couple that my huge, beastly animal would not ingest their precious Patty.  Because she wouldn't, right?  I mean, Nuka is friendly, right?  Mostly?  RIGHT?
     Their noses touched and I held my breath.  I watched my dog, easily the most awful pet I have ever had, investigate this strange, small animal, so friendly and innocent with her adorable coat and cute hair cut.  I watched Nuka, her hackles ruffled, her body stiff, and her big tail wagged, just a little, but it wagged.

     After that, PetSmart opened for Nuka.  The terrier's greeting brought her into this wonderful animal land, and we roamed the aisles, greeting Chows and German shepherds and puppies with abandon.  We picked out cookies, some stuff for the mice and Nuka stole an incredibly loud, incredibly pink squeak toy that I was forced to pay for.  At the check out, we waited in line and our little terrier came up behind us again.  Nuka did not eat this dog, but accepted a Milkbone from the cashier after which she had to be physically dragged through the scary automatic doors.

Nuka with the pink squeak.

     All in all, it was a success.  Could it be that I just underestimate Nuka?  Could it be that even two years after her horrible, destructive, frightening arrival in my life I still hold the past against her?  Is Nuka actually a good dog, and I hold her back with my negative vibes?

     No, she's still awful, the next week proved that.  But there is light at the end of the tunnel, a wad of marrow in the middle of the bone.  Nuka took on PetSmart, and thankfully, PetSmart won.