Several months ago, I adopted a pomeranian-chihauhau mix (as best as anyone can tell). She was about two years old (as far as we could figure). And she has three legs. (That we could say for sure.) There's quite a tragic and angry-making story behind that, but that's a story for another day.
Needless to say, owning a three-legged puffball leads to some absurdities.
1. Prada gets tired after walking about a mile. I don't. This has led to the procurement of a bellybag. Prada looks adorable. I look like a maniac with a waddle. Yes, I do see you pointing at the crazy lady.
2. When Prada gets excited (translate: all the time), she spins. But only in one direction.
3. She is so small, she once fell between the couch cushions. Okay, that doesn't have anything to do with the tripod situation, but come on.
I could list more--a lot more--but that list seems numerically appropriate.
And no, the shelter wouldn't give me 25% off.
(True: Prada can go up stairs, but not down. Good thing she's only seven pounds, since I'm hauling her patootie everywhere.)