Doggone Crazy

Chanel creative director and fashion icon Karl Lagerfeld died a couple of weeks ago...and left at least a portion of his $200 million fortune to his beloved cat, Choupette. This will most likely make Choupette the world's richest cat, surpassing a British cat named Blackie who inherited over $9 million from his owners in 1988. However, the richest pet of all time title still belongs to a German Shepherd named Gunter IV, whose owners left him $375 million in 1991. Let's also consider the fact that Choupette is already a self-made feline who has earned her own spending money as a model. This cat has got it made. I love this story because it just goes to show that no matter how calm, cool, and collected someone may seem on the exterior, inside we are all doggone crazy over our pets.

Feast your eyes on Choupette Lagerfeld, multi-million dollar heiress.

While I don't have Karl's kind of money to give to my dog, he still manages to take his fair share of our income, our time, and our energy. He may not be a millionaire (but feel free to become one, Cotton), but he does have a pretty pampered life. At the age of sixteen, he habitually has my husband and me tripping over ourselves to make sure he's comfortable and happy.

Most of you know that Chick-fil-A is a habitual reward in our family; Cotton feasts on nuggets after every vet visit. Now that he is well within the senior citizen age bracket, those visits are coming more and more frequently. Even the drive-thru workers know the reason for our visit and more often than not, they will ask how Cotton's doctor visit was and happily hand over the bag with his most delicious chicken reward.

When you are 80 in people years and you like Chick-fil-A, you get to eat lots of Chick-fil-A.

I'm afraid it doesn't stop with the nuggets. The blanket in the picture above is Cotton's favorite blanket, his near constant companion and snuggle partner. He also has a blanket that is reserved just for sleeping on at night, and still another quilt that we keep in the car for short rides. This dog has gotten cold-natured and now has his own mini closet in my laundry room with sweaters and shirts--and even Christmas pajamas--for practically any occasion. No pet of mine is going to shiver.

A sample of Cotton's wardrobe. Yes, we bought special tiny hangers for his clothes.

As arthritis has started to shorten our walks, I caved in and did something I swore I would never do: I bought a dog stroller. I was confident that Cotton would hate it and assured myself that meant I would never have to appear in public pushing him in it...the problem is, he was smitten with it from day one. Then again, who wouldn't like to stroll around (on the aforementioned quilt) and enjoy attention from strangers? Why walk when you can ride?

Cotton (right) with my mom's poodle, Sam, strolling around Pigeon Forge this fall. 

So we've got nuggets and blankets and sweaters and strollers, why not throw in a birthday cake every year as well? We have ordered Cotton a small "cake" every year since he turned twelve; I figured that when your dog reaches that age, every year becomes a reason to be celebrated. This year, as we celebrated his sweet sixteen, we went a little over the top with a pom pom collar and a party hat (okay, and also a toy car). Yes, it was ridiculous. And you know what? We laughed so hard and got so much joy out of it, I'm not the least bit sorry.

Celebrating sweet sixteen
(and probably thinking, "Oh boy, these idiots have officially gone off the deep end.")

I take great comfort in knowing that I am not alone in being crazy for my animal companion. A lady in my neighborhood takes her aging Labrador retriever out for runs and pushes an empty jogging stroller. When the dog gets too tired to keep going, he hops in the stroller and she pushes him along the rest of the way. They are neighborhood celebrities, and for good reason. My friend Jason told me earlier this week he was contemplating using an oxygen tank for his fourteen-year old dog, Savannah. It had a neoprene case to help make it portable, and we both said we wouldn't hesitate. Cotton is about to have to wear diapers when we leave him for more than two or three hours--I don't have children and I honestly never thought I would be changing diapers, but you do things for your pet without a second thought. A few years back, a pregnant friend confided in me she only hoped she would love her baby as much as she loved her two cats: I'm happy to report that she does.

It doesn't matter if you have a cat, dog, fish, bird, horse, snake, ferret...our animals make us better people. They take our minds off ourselves, they think the best of us, and they remind us about important things like loyalty and not holding a grudge. We love our pets because they are always glad to see us. They can't talk, so they can't argue or tell our secrets. They may steal your snack but they will never hog the remote. They are our confidants, our therapists, our sidekicks. Pets remind us to be curious, play, and live in the moment.

What a wish!

Sadly, our pets also remind us that life can be short, and we will never have enough time with them. So I say put on the fancy collar, push them in the stroller, feed them Chick-fil-A and spoil them every chance you get. I like to think they would do it for us. And also, if anyone finds out that Choupette enjoys the company of small, white, elderly dogs, please let me know. Cotton could really help her spend that fortune of hers, believe me.