Yesterday was the day that everyone’s alumni newsletters came in the mail. There was the newsletter from my high school, a newsletter from the college my husband and I attended, and my daughter’s first alumni newsletter from Penn State.
I grabbed my school newsletters from the pile and sat down at the kitchen table to “catch up”. Usually, I check out the alumni news section first. I like to read if anyone I know now has a cool job or got married or had kids, or if there are pictures of anyone who dumped me three days before the Christmas formal for another chick who I heard is now 500 pounds and can squash him like a bug. No, you don’t sense any bitterness – just a bit of vengeful imagination.
Anyway, as I was searching through the stack of newsletters, I noticed there was a new one, and it was addressed to my dog, Frankie. Yes, apparently the rescue where we got her from is now sending out newsletters to their “graduates”. And if you think I am kidding, think again. This newsletter said, “Hello Graduates” in its salutation.
I have to wonder what my dog had to do to be considered a graduate. When we took her home from that rescue at the ripe old age of eight weeks, she was not house-trained, she knew no commands and she had contracted Parvo. Three weeks in a veterinary hospital and $3,000 later, I finally had my new healthy puppy that still did not do tricks. For that cash, I could have bought a pedigree that at least could have brought home some prize money from dog shows along the way.
Anyway, as I looked at this newsletter more closely, I saw that it was addressed to Frankie Cavanagh, and I was a bit perplexed. How did they know her “adopted” name? I know that there are no sealed adoption records when it comes to dogs, but she wasn’t named Frankie when we took her home. Then, I realized that when she was hospitalized for the Parvo, the vet told me to call the rescue because all their puppies had to be tested. In that conversation, the woman who ran the rescue asked me what I named the dog.
I guess she wrote down my dog’s name and kept it for future correspondence. I have to give that rescue kudos for marketing prowess. How cute is it for your dog to get her own newsletter! I know Frankie appreciated it. And just like me, she went right to the alumni news section to see what had happened to her fellow rescue pups.
This is where the story gets sad. Throughout the newsletter, there were photos of animals less fortunate than herself who had not found homes yet. There were cats, horses, emus (yes, those big birds that look like ostriches), llamas, donkeys, and pigs all waiting for rescue. Well, Frankie took one look at these pictures and begged me to either adopt one of these animals or send them a check.
Well, at least that is the story I told my husband. He has a hard time turning down requests from the daughter or the dogs, so if you give him a choice of bringing home an abandoned emu or sending the rescue $25, he will always opt for the $25. He’s funny that way. I’m okay with that too as I am not sure how to care for an emu, and I think a bird that size would need a really big cage.
I read her newsletter aloud from start to finish – something I don’t do with my own alumni magazines – and I saw that on the last page there was a form for alumni updates and a request for her email address. Now, when my husband or daughter fills out forms which ask for an email address, they immediately give out mine. Why? Because they don’t want all that “crap” in their inbox. Apparently, it’s no big inconvenience that I get all their “crap” in my inbox, but that is another rant for another time. Initially, I was going to give the rescue my email as well, but then I thought, “Why?” This is Frankie’s alma mater; they should have her email.
I can hear people asking now, “You set up an email for your dog so she can get her alumni newsletter from the rescue where she lived for a month?”
Let me assure you that I did not set up an email account so she can correspond with her rescue. Frankie already had her own email account. I set it up a long time ago. She manages our prescription by mail service. Frankie gets all the notifications when a prescription needs to be renewed or if billing information has to be updated. She is actually very efficient at this task — at least more than my other dog. LuLu let the prescription stuff slide, so now her email only handles the Ticketmaster stuff for concerts, plays, etc.
Well, it will be interesting to see how often Frankie’s alumni newsletter is published. As I was perusing this magazine, I was impressed at how sophisticated it was, and how wide a circulation it had. I had to wonder if the editor hires human freelancers. There is a chance she might jump at a writer with my experience. Okay, it’s true I have never interviewed an emu before, but I certainly have interviewed my share of jack asses. That should count for something.