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I'll never forget the day I got my wheels. Me and my rad mom Caroline were at our little cottage in Silverlake. I don't know if you've ever visited Silverlake, but it's a hilly neighborhood in Los Angeles, full of really pretty girls. Oh man, I love pretty girls--what can I say? Romeo by name, Romeo by nature.
Every day, Caroline would walk me up and down the hilly streets. She used a scarf to lift up my hind legs so they didn't drag behind me on the ground. If I drag my legs on concrete, they bleed!
There was a lot to love about walking in the hills--I'd sniff some fuschias, say 'hi' to the aloe vera plants, and growl at the passing bicycles. And the sunsets--boy oh boy. I may be colorblind, but there was something about the smells and the light of a fading afternoon that made me feel...connected. Cosmic.
Basically, the only bad thing about walking in the hills was that after a while, the scarf mom was using to lift up my legs started to chaff. It would rub on my skin and press on my bladder and make me want to pee. Kind of embarrassing.
Then one morning, we woke up to find a big box on the doorstep. Mom was in her GWAR t-shirt, lookin' fine. She opened up the cardboard with scissors and I sat watching. She pulled out this contraption and the first thing I did was sniff it. Hm. Steel and velcro. So...industrial. Not my favorite aromas, not quite as lovely as the fuschias or the wild rosemary of the Silverlake hills or the scent of an freshly-exercised woman. But intriguing nonetheless.
Then Caroline lifted me into the steel and velcro thing, and something kinda miraculous happened--I could walk! I could STRUT! For real. My legs weren't dragging behind me. Maybe with the help of those wheels, I could finally achieve maximum squirrel-hunting speeds again! Maybe I could even go as fast as those annoying single gear bicycles.
That afternoon, when we went for our walk, the whole world felt different. Some people stared, most of them wanted to pet me. Especially the girls. And that's when I realized one of the best things about being a dog on wheels--there' s nothing like a shiny new set of rims to get the ladies going broom broom.
