Urban Dog Uncovers Owner’s Core Gifts

My mom Cathy just signed up for a training program on info products. For her first assignment, she is supposed to ask 10 people (family, friends and colleagues) to answer three questions to uncover her core gift

Cathy hates this stuff. She’d rather write 3 info products in a weekend than ask people to help her answer these questions. Most people she knows would rather be boiled in oil than do this. And it’s just south of woo-woo land.

But since I fit into the “family” category, I thought I’d (pardon the expression) dig into these questions.

Q1: In your opinion, what do you think I’m naturally good at doing?

A: From where I sit (currently under the coffee table), I think you’re naturally good at selecting dogs. First you chose Keesha from the Broward County Humane Society and then — seven years later at the opposite end of the country — you chose me on Petfinder.

OK, you didn’t really choose me. I chose you. And yeah, I know you thought about sending me back. But who’s kidding who? Once I started sitting in your lap on the bus, I knew: we were a team.

Q2. In the past, what have you been able to rely on me for?

Food. Dog beds (one in each room…and I’ll take the sofa anytime, thank you very much). More food. Walks. Excursions to the dog park. Food. Visits to the vet. Training (we could skip this one if you get busy). A kong to chew when I’m alone in my crate. Two cats to entertain me and keep me humble. My own corner of your sofa. My big bag of chewies.

Oh yeah, did I say food?

Q3. What do you feel are my top 3 strengths and talents?

Well, I hope you’re a good copywriter, because you couldn’t make a living with your domestic skills, like housekeeping or cooking. I do my best to help by nibbling stray crumbs here and there, but you’re a challenge.

OK, here goes:

Talent #1: You learn fast. When I first got here, you said, “No dogs on the furniture..and never on my bed!” So I slept in my crate for the first few months, slurping on my peanut butter kong.

But soon you caught on to the deal I offered: no chewing your socks if I could sit on the couch. And I wouldn’t eat the cat food if I could sleep on the foot of your bed.

Hey, a deal’s a deal. You immediately saw the win-win possibilities. I knew your MBA would count for something.

Talent #2: You’re highly intuitive.

When I sit next to the door, looking pathetic, you know I need to go out…right away. When I put my head in your lap and look soulfully into your eyes, you slam the laptop closed and grab the leash. You easily predict the future of your rug if you don’t get us out to the street.

Talent #3: You’re a shameless self-promoter.

Every time we ride the bus, you tell everyone in earshot our story. All it takes is one question: “What’s her name? How old? What kind?”

You don’t hesitate. “Gracie. Five. All-American Mutt but she thinks she’s a princess. Rescued from a humane society in Bellingham. No, not a shelter – foster home. Isn’t she well-behaved? I am so proud of her…”

It gets better. We walk to the Queen Anne branch of the library. Almost always some nice person is sitting on the steps. “What a good dog,” they say.

This is my cue. I turn my Cuteness level up to Maximum Strength, snuggling and prancing around.

After the unsuspecting victim has been totally won over, you say, “Gee, do you think you could keep an eye on her for just a minute while I run in and return a book? She doesn’t like to be tied up outside and she tries to run away…”

When you come back, everybody’s smiling. The mark even thanks you for the privilege of spending time with me. You may be a great salesperson, but I’m the champ when it comes to delivering customer service.

OK, I did my part with the questions. If you’re reading this blog and you know Cathy, please volunteer to answer the questions. She won’t want to ask. I just hope she keeps writing stuff that sells. Urban dogs don’t come cheap.

Contact info here: http://www.copy-cat-copywriting.com/contact.html
OR mailto:seattlecathy@gmail.com

Gracie : The Dog is the Star

Awhile back we were heading home from the dog park. As usual, I sat in my mom’s lap. Who wants to si on the yucky floor?

Everyone around us asked, “What’s her breed?”

Answer: “Anything but a Rottweiler.”

Then we had a guessing game. Beagle? Corgi? Shepherd? Chihuahua? Australian ridgeback (doubtful)?

Everybody wants to touch me. I think people feel disconnected on a bus, in the city. Often people will pat my head, as if I were a good luck charm, as they leave the bus.

Occasionally someone’s scared of dogs. One guy said, “It’s against my religion to touch a dog.”

But usually I get compliments on “such a well-behaved dog!” “Looks so sweet!”

My mom threatens to buy me a pair of sunglasses.