e dog I dreamed of since I was a little girl, only more beautiful and sweet than I ever imagined.But you went to the shelter and adopted a mutt. It wasn't that long ago that adopted dogs were called "shelter dogs" or even (the horror) "pound dogs." But now you call your dog a "rescue dog" (and usually in a loud, snide voice).
Little known fact: a tiny piece of the good karma you earned by adopting your pet disappears every time you utter the phrase "rescue dog." Why? Because the karma gods realize that you're a big pain-in-the-ass phony. The implication isn't subtle: adopting a "rescue dog" means you're a "rescuer," AKA hero. And calling yourself a hero is just icky.
You know who is a real hero? Someone who adopts an older child or fosters a messed up kid or two. But I've never, not once, heard someone call a foster child a "rescue kid." But I have to admit, this re-branding of shelter dogs into rescues is pure marketing genius. Because let's face it, you were probably thinking overbred teacup yorkie before the whole hero thing went to your head, weren't you?
So how about we strike a deal? You stop sneering when you see my dog with his gorgeous fur and lack of emotional baggage. And I promise to look at a golden retriever shelter when I get another dog, if the prospect of overreaching pet contracts and home inspections to determine my pet-worthiness doesn't piss me off too much.
Plus, I'll try very hard to refrain from pointing out your hypocrisy when you have your own children, when there are already so many kids waiting around in pounds, er, I mean "residential facilities."
