We have two dogs that I have a love hate relationship with. They love me – I hate them.
It’s not my fault really – I had a very traumatizing experience during my childhood. One of those little fuckers nearly bit my finger off!
Ever since then, my whole life basically I have had an intense dislike for small dogs especially those with flat noses. Give me a St Bernard, and Alsatian or a Siberian Husky – now that’s a dog!
My mother knows this about me, she was there when the little shit bit me. But what happens – she turns sixty and suddenly she decides to join the old lady brigade and get two Yorkshire terriers.
Never mind that, she decided to start breeding them and produce more of the little gremlins.
Gizmo and Stripe where born in Spain on a sunny March day. I thought my mother had plans to sell them to make money but she had something much more sinister in mind.
She was going to get revenge for all those years of teenage rebellion that I put her through. That would include that time when I turned sixteen and came home with a purple mohawk (mohican) and shaved sides. I had been asked to be a hair model at this big fashion show. The hairdressers managed to persuade me that short hair would bring out my eyes. I’m not sure about my eyes but my mother’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
Her plan was well thought out and very detailed. She must have planned it for months.
Christmas holidays – we arrived in Spain to spend the holidays with granny. On our arrival she presented us with our Christmas gifts – two microchipped gremlins with their very own passports.
Imagine our surprise.
The children were delighted and we thought – oh well, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. After all, animals and children always make a good combination.
On our return to Norway we had to go through customs. I handed the officer the passports with a smile – confident in my ignorance.
‘Are they street dogs?‘ he asked. ‘Of course not, they are Christmas presents from granny’ I informed him.
‘Oh, thoroughbred then‘ he asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘I don’t know‘ I replied.
‘Hmmm Yorkshire thoroughbred – the value on those are about Kr 25 000 each’.
My neck hairs started to rise, where was he going with this.
‘You do know that you have to pay ‘moms’ (tax) on these dogs?‘ he said firmly.
‘But they are gifts??!! From granny and I didn’t even want them!!‘
‘That doesn’t matter, you still have to pay tax on the value that they have in Norway. The value on thoroughbred Yorkshires with papers are kr 25 000 a dog.’ he replied.
I took Gizmo and Stripe out of their cage and told him to keep them. Within five minutes we had agreed that no way could anything so ugly be anything else but gremlins and thus not worth so much money. We left the airport with our gremlins and our credit card in balance.
Two years later and the gremlins are still here. Every time I decide to get rid of them they love me more and I hate them more. They are by now seasoned travelers and we are never stopped by the customs anymore.