The humans have tried everything. Now it's up to us dogs, and the twilight bark. Or: Why My Mom Thought I Was Special Ed, Part 3

HOW I GOT MY SPOTS 

Lucky

"I live for fur. I worship fur."

After both Clara and Wendy, I'm sure my parents were hesitant to let me watch any more movies or TV, but this is the 90's, and both my parents worked, so distractions were sometimes necessary. And I went a good year or so without any more major breakdowns. My sister and I would "play" Little Mermaid, and have singing competitions with the "Ah-ah-ah's" as loud as we could, but I didn't completely immerse myself into another role. Plus, Little Mermaid was always more of my sister's thing, with the Princesses and all. I liked having adventures, and I was already a bit of a tomboy, and incredibly stubborn to boot.

But then 101 Dalmatians (the cartoon one) happened, and a new character took over once again, this time in the form of a dog. Did I choose the girl puppy? Of course not. I chose Lucky, one of the main 5 puppies, and probably the biggest puppy role. (He was the one that almost died on numerous accounts but was always saved at the last minute... the one who always enraptured with the TV). 

Being a bit older, I took this character even further than the others. There were 101 Dalmatians posters, stuffed animals, lunchboxes, clothes, birthday parties (complete with a homemade Dalmatian cake my Mom made), books, etc. I had one of those books with the sound card attached, where you press the buttons to provide sound effects when reading it... the Cruella honking sound was played pretty much non-stop. I can still hear exactly what it sounds like, almost a decade later. I think I even had a giant 101 Dalmatians pencil. I was obsessed. But that's not it, since, after-all, collecting isn't the same as becoming.

Like the nightgown-wearing characters before, I transformed into Lucky. And this time it was more than just calling myself Lucky and refusing to come inside. I ate off the floor. No kidding. At dinner, I would grab my plate and put it at my family's feet. My sister would throw snacks and morsels on the carpet, and I would crawl-run over and suck it up. Using just my mouth. When we played house, I was always the family dog, rubbing my head against my sister, asking to be petted. I barked, I crawled, I dressed in Dalmatian pants. I became the dog. 

It wasn't until years later my Dad acquiesced and finally got me a dalmatian puppy of my own. I named her Rascal. (You'd think I'd have named her Perdita or one of the other female dogs in the movie, but no). 

I do have pictures of all of this, by the way, but they're in Virginia, in photo albums, and I'm in Cali. Eventually, I will try to get them and put them up though.  

"Fools aren't born, Pongo. Pretty girls make them in their spare time."

Next up: How I became a perpetual yellow belt and slept in a glittered helmet.

photos from here