Wall-E

Wall-E is the name of the darling robot in the movie of the same title. It is also the namesake for my little dog. To tell the truth, I don't even like the movie Wall-E that much. The poor little robot is so lonely that I find it emotionally trying to watch. Up in the spaceship, I think the fat people are annoying. I also think the length of the film causes it to generally overstay its welcome in my presence. However, that said, there is no name more fitting for my silly little Pekingese than Wall-E.

A couple of years ago I was finding life unfulfilling. I was working in a soulless analyst position in the insurance industry, living with my sister (who is my very best friend, but still counts as a family member), and felt that I hadn't really started my post-college life. In the space of a couple of months, I purchased a new car, got a part-time job as a salesperson for my favorite technology store, and got a dog.

I got a proverbial bee in my bonnet about getting a dog after my sister casually mentioned that I should get a breed of dog called a "Dorkie" (miniature Dachshund/Yorkie). She thought the breed was fitting for my personality; well, she thought the NAME of the breed was fitting for my personality (thanks for the subtlety, sis). While the Dorkie didn't pan out, the idea of having a little dog running around the house grew on both of us. After some research, we frequented a couple of adoptions held by rescue groups. I bee-lined for the Shih-Tzus, or Yorkies, or other attractive breeds. I kept walking past a kennel that had a little bald dog in it. Really, when there are pretty little dogs romping around with ribbons in their hair, who stops to look at the shaking, hairless dog with bulbous eyes?

However, something kept me returning to the ugly little bald dog. Finally I gave in.

"Oh, who are you?" I queried the compact, shaking animal. I opened the kennel and awkwardly took the little creature in my arms, being unfamiliar with how to really hold a dog. He looked at me with buttery brown eyes, sneezed on me, and stopped shaking. It was love. A week (and an extraordinary adoption fee) later, he was mine.

Wall-E, as I immediately named him, is a Pekingese. Pekingese are not naturally bald. In fact, if the Wall-E I adopted was Gandhi, the breed in general is Ted Williams. The pound found poor little Wall-E, dirty and matted, wandering the streets. They turned him over to a rescue group who had to shave him. While his fur has since grown into a luxurious, plush coat, at the time, "Wall-E" seemed like the perfect name for a little ugly dog who possessed huge eyes, a big heart, and not too many brains.

Wall-E is a simple soul. His entire world revolves around treats. How can he get them? Who will be his pusher? What will they be? Close behind that love of food is the need for a soft place to lay while someone scritch-scratches his ears. When it comes to deductive reasoning... well, I don't believe Wall-E actually possesses any. Before Wall-E and I moved to warmer climates, snow was a problem for both of us. For Wall-E, it was a problem because his paws would get so cold that he'd freeze up and be unable to walk any further, rolling onto his behind to elevate his paws. For me it was a problem because I'd have to carry a wet, dirty, shivery dog back into the house, usually before he'd, ahem, "done his business." My mother came up with a plan. She sent him little booties! While they wouldn't help me with the wet-dirty-dog-problem, they would perhaps keep said dirt off of my coat, as well as preventing pain for Wall--E.

Wall-E Resisted.

After about 10 minutes of coaxing, treat-giving, cursing... uh... I mean encouraging... my sister and I finally got Wall-E into one bootie. He looked at us as if we had removed his appendage instead of temporarily adding to it. Holding the offending foot in the air, he attempted to hobble away, careful to not let the be-bootied paw touch the ground. Encouraged by our success, as well as Wall-E's self-imposed disability, we eventually got Wall-E into all four of his booties. If you think a dog looks pathetic when making sure to hold one paw off the ground, imagine how silly a dog looks when he attempts to walk with NONE of his paws touching the ground.

While the booties appeared to successfully keep snow off my little dog's feet, they also successfully rendered him stationary, causing a problem of larger magnitude, all things considered.

Like I said, perhaps Wall-E isn't full of brains or beauty.