It’s really, really easy.
1. Jump on the bed.
2. Stand in the middle of the bed.
3. Walk in a circle.
4. Plop down.
5. Sit for 0.43 seconds.
6. Frantically stand up.
7. Jump off the bed.
8. Repeat steps 1 through 7 until the head belonging to the small woman who feeds you explodes.
Dear dogs (you a-holes),
I know it’s raining. I’ve been lugging a 23+ pound child in and out of the rain all day. I am aware.
I am also aware of the fact that perhaps squidgy grass does not feel exactly pleasant on your dainty feet, so maybe going outside isn’t so much fun. But you see, the thing is, if you would do your “business” right when you get outside, rather than tiptoeing around with a look of disdain on your face while whimpering and then quickly bounding inside without relieving yourselves, you wouldn’t then turn to me 3 minutes later with an “Oh sh*t!” look on your face and leap for the door, only to repeat the previously outlined and annoying-as-hell routine.
Sincerely,
That Lady Who Was Screaming “GOOOOOOOOO!” At You All Evening
PS – Stop using my couch as a towel.
I bet you’d forgotten all about her. Shooter is also still here, too. He’s busy sleeping directly on my legs.
He used to spend his evening prowling the hallway and barking at all the teenage riffraff outside.
Now he does this:
We pay, on average, about $600 total a year in vet bills for both dogs.
We also pay, on average, $30 a month for their food.
Shooter costs an extra $5 a month for his epilepsy medicine.
That works out to over $1000 we pay each year to keep the dogs alive so they can continue to destroy our house, ruin our grass, and generally drive us insane.
BUT THEY ARE SO CUUUUUUUUUUTE:
You may have noticed that it snowed today. Such precipitation combined with the lack of grass in our backyard makes for some pretty dirty dogs once they come inside from doing their business. So dirty, in fact, that they were both caked with mud from toes to belly after just a few minutes of being outside.
Bath time!
Shooter does pretty well with baths. He just kind of looks mopey while being washed and then rubs himself all over any available surface once released from the tub.
Zapp, as usual, is a different story.
She hates being wet. She once snapped her collar off (not at the buckle, in the middle of the strap) because she was pulling so hard on a leash to get away from the hose. This means she would rather die than go near water.
When we try to put in her in the bathtub, she seems to sprout additional arms and legs (and TALONS), fighting it the entire time. Have you ever tried to hold 55lbs. of soaking wet determination into a slippery, clawfoot bathtub? Not so easy.
So, tonight, she took a shower.
That’s right.
Someone put on a bathing suit and stood with her in our teeny tiny shower stall to give her a quick rinse. Zapp spent much of the time with her face plastered against the sliding door while her companion hosed her down.
Unorthodox? Possibly.
Worth it? Absolutely.
I found out that simmering white vinegar for about 45 minutes works as an excellent on-the-fly air freshener.
I started my day with dog crap. Dog crap mixed with dog vomit. Tons of it. All in our office upstairs, not outside where it belongs.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
