I’m working this weekend in a different city. I’m not home with my dogs. I teach for Karen Pryor Academy — we teach people how to be professional dog trainers. Because I had to fly to St. Louis, I am dogless for an entire weekend. Which, for a dog lover like me, can be a little tough.
There is an upside, however.
I get to wear my “good clothes.” When I made dog training my profession, all of my “Dry Clean Only” (DCO) clothes left my closet. Unless you’re very wealthy (and enjoy trips to the dry cleaner), these fussy clothes simply do not make sense. They aren’t practical when you work with dogs every day.
Now that my job description also includes teaching and speaking, a few fussy clothes have crept back into my closet. I actually look forward to wearing my fancy cardigan. The black one that stays protected in the confines of my closet unless I’m boarding a plane.
I call those kinds of clothes my “Vampire Clothes” because they rarely see the light of day.
It’s kind of like playing dress up — I get to wear my fancy shoes (the ones you don’t *dare* leave out because they’re too expensive to replace because a dog thought they were a new (and very expensive) dog toy) when I leave the house to speak or teach.
When I was a Federal worker, dry clean only was the only way I dressed. If it looked good, felt good, it was dry clean only. For the past decade, I’ve had only machine washable clothing…by necessity. Those fussy DCO clothes failed miserably with dog slobber, dog hair, and dog nails snagging. It was stressful to wear the DCO clothes.
Do I miss my dogs when I travel? Absolutely!
Would I ever trade my dogs for a haute couture wardrobe? Never!
But it’s nice to find some excitement in wearing a DCO cardigan occasionally! My Vampire Clothes get out of the closet!
Do you have a fashion-doggie horror story? Please leave a comment and share!
I’m not nearly as stylish as you. I’ve phased DCO clothes and those that need ironing out of my wardrobe, dogs or not.
But I’ve had my share of fashion and dog disasters. Before I bought my first bait bag, I used to keep treats in my pockets. As a result, I’d return home to find every single one of my pockets munched to pieces.
To this day, whenever I discover a torn pocket, I think of my first dogs, Agatha and Christie.