Prejudice

Note to readers who get offended at anything politically incorrect: You can skip this post.

I have a big, black dog. I talk to her as if she actually understands me. If she were human, she would have several strikes against her:

She is female.
She is big.
She is black.
She makes up her own rules.
She talks too much.

These are not detriments in my mind. I like to point out to her when she is being wronged by the entire male species, human and animal. She is not fat; she is big boned. And I tell her that big girls are beautiful too. I point out all holidays or events that recognize black achievements such as MLK day and Black History month. (One of her favorite poses is the arm outstretched thing. Whenever she does it, I say, "Power to your people!" During the election, I kept her posted on the candidates and congratulated her when Obama won.

She is very protective. She is not really a barker until she hears a sound outside or a knock on the door. Otherwise, she's just chatty with groans and moans. Yesterday, my mother walked in after her shower and she was wearing a towel on her head. Gabby stood straight up and gave a warning growl. She was serious.

Guess she doesn't like towel heads. There goes my dream of taking her on a Middle East vacation.