Life With Dogs

MONDAY

MORNING:  After our morning walk, as I’m de-warm-clothing in the mudroom, I hear a dog playing with something in the living room.  I pop my head around the corner to see Addy and Winter “attacking” an oval shaped rock roughly the size of an egg.  It takes me less than 10 seconds to remember that the night before I’d tossed a semi-frozen egg on the gravel (it broke), and to realize that someone has brought in the “egg” tasting rock because they thought it was an egg.

AFTERNOON:  At work, foster Gemma gets frustrated because she is pawing at my legs, and I won’t pick her up, so she starts furiously humping my ankle.  Likes it.  Spends the rest of the afternoon humping each of my ankles in turn whilst I work at the computer.

EVENING:  I arrive home from work to see that someone has grown opposable thumbs/ learned to open kitchen cabinets, and has removed all the contents and left them on the kitchen floor.  Except the rabbit food, which they ate and then threw up.

TUESDAY

MORNING:  Tweed has Bad Bottom.  It smells like a squirrel died in a Texas attic in August, and he ate it, after a week long bender of consuming nothing else other than Jack Daniels and Doritos, and then shit it out all over the entire world.  Spend so much time alternating between cleaning his poppy pants and trying not to hurl, I am almost late for work.

AFTERNOON:  Addy has Bad Bottom in her crate (which she is now confined to after peeing on one too many of the boss’ dog beds) and rolls around in it.  Must be bathed.  Spend rest of afternoon wondering if ALL the dogs have Bad Bottom and dreading what my house will look like when I get home.

(Gemma humps ankle furiously all.day.long.)

EVENING:  Everyone is fine.  The only eventful portion of the evening is a slug in the cat’s food bowl.  WTF?

WEDNESDAY

MORNING: Tried to moisturize my face (accidentally) with something called “Foaming Tartar Remover For Dogs” because that bottle and the moisturizer are pretty much identical.  Extremely tingly.

(Gemma falls asleep on shoe after frantically humping ankle for 15 consecutive minutes)

THURSDAY

Work:  Most action I have had in a while ; Gemma still humping away at my ankle.

Agility Class:   Dexter decides to be perfect.  I decide to stop speaking to him altogether.  Chicken-egg scenario.

Winter tries agility for the first time.  JUMPING FOR COOKIES YAY YAY YAY!!  Focusing for more than 4 consecutive seconds – NO NO NO!

FRIDAY

Day off.  Ahhhh.  Spend part of morning crawling on knees around the house looking for mystery dog pee smell.  Am unsuccessful.  F*ckers.

While I am cleaning chickens, Addy digs monster hole in upper pasture.  While carrying chicken feed to coop, I trip in monster hole, drop the chicken feed on Wootie.  Addy dances for joy.  This is the first time I realize that Addy is, in fact, the spawn of Satan and not a faux Italian Greyhound at all.

(Gemma does not hump my ankles at home, ever.  Weird)

Later:  Watching movie with Addy nestled in my arms.  Idly rub an itch on my chin along her back.  At bed time, discover two Addy hairs IMBEDDED in my face.  Like slivers.  NOW SHE IS TRYING TO GET INSIDE ME!!  BEGONE SATAN!!!

SATURDAY

Photos with Aussies and my new lights :)

(More photos coming soon on the Big Air Facebook page!)

Comments

  1. Thanks for the laughs!

  2. When I (infrequently), ahem, pass gas, ahem, I liken the odor to that of skunk roadkill left to age on sun drenched asphalt on a hot July day, then soaked in highly volatile toxic chemicals and spread out to dry. So I had to laugh about Tweed’s poopy pants!

    Love the Aussie photos!

  3. clairesmum says:

    Oh my….wonder if the culprit in opening the cabinet got poopy pants as a ‘reward’ for that success…guess you’ll never know! No matter which digestive tract is the source of the offending aroma, a couple of old fashioned wooden kitchen matches when struck and let burn for a few minutes and then blown out create a smoke that seems to neutralize the organic odors! Just don’t be spraying air freshener at the same time!

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