I didn't used to like corgis.
Weird, right? There was never a dog breed I didn't like growing up, except for these little bundles of weight with giant ears. I wish I had some kind of excuse for this prejudice, but I really can't think of any. In more recent years, I've found baby corgis to be some of the sweetest, cutest little things I have ever seen, so that has definitely lightened my attitude.
But the two dogs who really changed my mind are Frank and Fiona. You all know about how much I love funny-looking animals, and Frank takes the cake by a long shot. With humongous ears, legs the length of toothpicks attached to paws the size of men's Ugg boots, and beautiful black-white-and-gray markings, Frank epitomizes goofy. Walking Frank is essentially dragging a 35-pound sausage along the sidewalk as its casing (his back fat) slides from left to right with the movements of the harness.
If that's not cute, I thought when I first saw him, I don't know what is (I choose to block out the pain in the ass nature of walks with Frank in diagnosing my feelings for him).
Fiona, on the other hand, looks more like a normal corgi, minus the same beautiful coat that Frank has. Both are gorgeous colors and patterns and make me glad I'm not a dog walker on the Upper East Side, for fear an old rich lady would tackle me and dognap the babies for a fur coat.
Incredible markings aside, Fiona, I must say, has completely transformed my opinion of corgis. While her short legs and general heftiness make her difficult to pick up, once I've hoisted her weight onto my lap, she's a fat, snuggly paperweight. She likes to give kisses and chill with me on the couch while watching a movie. She doesn't bark and in all truthfulness, I would be proud to call her my own.
So here's to Frank and Fiona: you made me like corgis.
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