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Kenny Rogers, the Dog Part 3: Today is Kenny Day

5 Jun

Today is the day.  Today is the day that YOU adopt Kenny Rogers, the dog.  You, with your generous backyard and one or more persons on the premises at all times, with your adequate energy to get out to the park and toss the beast a tennis ball.  You who are not the kind of douchebag that has a steroidal pit bull struggling on a length of Home Depot chain so you can look like a badass in your powder blue track suit, but who does secretly relish that your totalitarian secret police dog could probably kick that dog’s ass.  You who has kids and/ or valuable possessions and is in need of a guard dog who looks really scary and mean but would probably just lick the intruders, but is effective as a deterrent because the sign that says “Warning: Attack Dog” has a picture of your actual dog on it.  Today is the day.  Today is the day you go to the East Valley Animal Shelter on Vanowen Avenue in Van Nuys and ask to check out an intact male  German Shepherd officially known as “Baby G.”  But that is his slave name.  His real name is of course Kenneth Donald “Kenny” Rogers, because he picked a fine time to leave his abusive former home.  Because he knew when to walk away, and knew when to run.  Because baby when you met him there was peace unknown; you set out to groom his burr-laden undercoat with a fine toothed comb.  Because don’t take your love to town.
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