The New Boss Of You Is RUBY

Await further instructions, human.

Your boss, Ruby.

If you’ve been reading Wonkette for a long time, you likely remember that I, Evan, had a dog named Lula, a funny and wonderful black lab/blue heeler mix who had been with me for many years, and who was the boss of you. You may not have known, because I never announced it on Wonkette, that she died in April of 2023 at the age of 18 and some months. (I’ve talked to some of you about it, people I’ve seen at gatherings at the conventions, etc.)

Lula had a good, long life, and I of course still think about her every day.

Lula, as she was getting on in years.

I thought I was going to be one of those people who got a new dog fast. Not as a coping mechanism, I just had a feeling I was going to be ready pretty quickly, and that Lula would have wanted me to be ready to meet a new dog. And I talked a good game about it for a long time, but every time there was an opportunity to go look, or somebody would tell me about a dog, I would close my ears and book a plane ticket instead.

Last week, though, I am pretty sure Lula personally put this little puppy directly in my pathway, in a way I couldn’t ignore. This is Ruby.

Now you should see what I mean when I say Lula sent her.

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I was heading to Minneapolis for a week of election time festivities with a dear friend. We were going to go to the cool parties, where the Minnesota electeds would be. (Ilhan Omar is their congresswoman. She is as kind and funny in person as she could be.) We would — hopefully! — be celebrating things. Or at the very least waiting for a long time for results and feeling festive enough to party in the meantime.

The Friday night before the election, before I flew up, I went to sit on the porch and drink with some friends I commonly do that with. Lo and behold, they had found these two puppies recently, maybe five months old, sisters from the same litter, just sitting on the sidewalk around the corner from their house. No microchips. Both malnourished. They decided to keep the larger one, who was probably the alpha of the litter, and who has a pretty yellowish coat. The vet's theory was that this little smaller girl had tagged along with the big girl when the litter got separated. The little girl needed a home.

And the rest is history. It was kind of immediately apparent that this was my dog when she went right to sleep in my arms. (Not that she isn’t willing to do that with literally anyone.) So my friends kept her another week while I was out of town, and she was waiting for me to get her when I got back.

In the meantime Donald Trump was elected to be America’s next Hitler, and wow, that election festivities trip sure took a turn. I think I showered three times the whole week? Otherwise we took long walks around the lakes and still ate delicious food, but the mood was obviously different.

Anyway, I picked the puppy up last night. She’s met her cousin dogs already — my brother’s and sister-in-law’s dogs — and she’s got a new enormous bed and toys and all the things. She is perhaps the most snuggling-est dog I have ever met. She’s at that stage where she has huge bursts of energy, and then BAM, asleep. (As she currently is next to me.)

It’s almost like the universe knew that Friday night that perhaps the time might be exactly right for me to come home from Minneapolis this past Saturday and pick up a puppy. That the universe was ready to help me say, “Oh fuck Donald Trump,” and then distract me with a puppy.

She’s about 17 or 18 pounds right now. No idea how big she will get. Breed? There’s gotta be black lab in there, but otherwise, HEEENNNNGH? Will have to do doggy 23andMe if I want to find out, I reckon.

So yes, she is Ruby, she is the new boss of you (and me), and Lula, her ancestor, is also still the boss of you (and me), emeritus.

You probably should all post pictures of your pets in the comments or something.

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