Gimme a
break – the only time you should wear orange is on Halloween and then for
no more than an hour… and only if it
resembles a Paris inspired 1800’s ball gown in shades of variegated oranges,
crimson, and lemony yellows. Made of satin with trailing ribbons encrusted with
jewels and a coordinating crystal tiara would also have to be a part of the
deal. No orange pumpkin suits with
little hats. No orange tee shirts
that have some human-amusing saying stamped onto it like, “I Bark for Treats”. Even doggie prisons won’t put you in an orange
jumpsuit!
Other than that one hour
during all Hallow’s Eve where it may be possible to trick some elderly woman that
lives in a ginger bread looking house into fawning over you and giving you a
treat that’s it. The truth is having some elderly woman fawn all over you just
to receive a crappy dried dog bone that comes in a box cannot be worth looking
hideous in an orange pumpkin suit. Let’s
face it, that box of “bones” (for lack of a better word) has probably been
sitting on her pantry shelf for at least twenty years. Since no upper crust pup
has ever looked good in some polyfill stuffed pumpkin suit; hopefully your
human, whose lack of respect for you was evident by such a get-up, will feel
bad once realizing what she has done and when offered that “bone” will at least
speak up in your defense. Your human should let the giver know you prefer gummy
worms to freeze dried crud that was shaped into some semblance of a bone by
heavily masked workers in a remote foreign country.
In the case your human doesn’t
politely refuse the dog “bone” when offered you should take it with just your
front teeth; however, be sure and show reluctance in taking it, then open wide
and let it fall out of your mouth. When it clatters onto the stoop below be
sure and shudder and give a little throaty gag. That should send the giver
running for a piece of lunch meat. No telling how long that lunch meat has been
in her ‘frig though so probably best to just refuse all treats from strangers. At
least give it a good sniff-over first. Lunch meat is always worth sniffing out
first. I’d say look to your human for her opinion of the safety of the “treat”
but anyone who would put you in an orange pumpkin suit I’d take their judgment
with a grain of salt.
In fact, I, Carly, must advise
avoiding wearing orange for any reason at any time, but especially when it cost
under $19.99, has the word “costume” on the cellophane package, and was
purchased from a big box pet store. So when your human drags out the orange
pumpkin suit and camera you should fall over on your side and start panting
heavily. She’ll think you’re sick and
reconsider the night’s outing. Not sick enough for a run to the vet, just sick
enough she’ll think you just need a little rest from all the “excitement” of
her “surprise” for your holiday attire. She’ll put Beverly Hills Chihuahua in
the DVD player, make some popcorn and suggest you and her just stay home and
cuddle in front of the television for the evening. She’ll probably throw in a
nice belly rub to boot. She will, no doubt, have a bowl of candy set by the
front door for all the little beasties that will come multiple times throughout
the evening interrupting your movie to get a treat handout. You must go with
her to the door. While she’s talking baby talk about how cute the little
beasties are and filling their pillowcases with last year’s leftover suckers
and such you can quickly snag a packet of gummy worms and gobble it down.
There’s nothing wrong with year old gummy worms; those things have a shelf life
of nine hundred and ninety-nine years. Just try not to drool half of it out
only to dry in your chin fur and matt like a rock because that’s just nasty. As
nasty as wearing an orange pumpkin suit.
So remember:
- Satin dresses vintage style ala
Scarlet O’Hara in variegated oranges, crimson, and lemony yellows for a maximum
of one hour of wear: Okay.
- Orange fleece pumpkin suits:
Never.
- Matching Zombie Apocalypse
Outfits: Uh, Maybe.
