Friday, April 22, 2011

Dogs And Their Adventures

My mother and my sister have dogs.  We all currently live together, so I suppose they are in part my dogs as well.  My mother's dog is secretly clever but hides behind a dumb and dopey facade to fool us while she secretly plots world domination.  I'm on to her, but she hasn't figured it out yet.

We call her Puppy.  She is no longer a puppy, but for some reason, it is what we call her.  We call her a number of other things, mostly based on the fact that she breathes very heavily all the time.  Darth, Pig, Hey-You, Jealous, etc.  She answers to most of them.

Puppy likes to go on adventures from time to time.  These adventures most inconveniently take place outside of our fenced-in yard.  Usually I'm the one to go an get her.  She never plans her adventures when I have proper shoes on, or when I've got the leash with me.  No, she makes sure to do it when I'm barefoot and holding the cat.  This way I cannot leap over the fence as soon as she crawls underneath it and bring her straight home.  Instead, I must dash through the house, grabbing the leash and shoes (in that particular order) and sprint around the corner of the street, onto the wrong side of a busy road just so I can keep her from pooing in other peoples' yards.  Occasionally, if she's feeling particularly adventurous, she'll hop across the busy road and go into those people's yards.  This is very inconvenient for me because it means crossing the busy road to go and get to her.

I literally mean "hop."  She is a purebred lab we managed to get cheap because her owners didn't know her father's pedigree until after all the puppies were sold.  Of course, being purebred means she has a few health problems, like the fact that her hips don't really work.  She's been hopping with her back legs since she was like 6.

She was not the dog who had any adventures today.

No the dog who had an adventure today was my sister's dog.  This dog is pretty and sometimes pretty clever, but also -- much like her owner -- a bit dumb most of the time.  Her new favorite pastime is chasing squirrels that are already in the tree.  She watches the tree tops, finds a squirrelly friend, and chases it along the back fence until she can go no farther.  When it's out of her self-designated "play area", she proceeds to bark at the squirrel incessantly, for no reason other than the fact that she has no idea that there are other squirrels in the trees.

She is not terribly bright sometimes.

Her adventures usually take place conveniently in the yard, thank God.  Today was particularly rainy, which is rather key.  See, my mother let her out into the yard to play for a bit, forgetting that rain and clouds equal wet and cold.  Then we had dinner.  Then she and my sister left the house.

I get a call from my sister not a minute after they had left the house, telling me that Mother had left the ditzy dog out in the rain.

The poor dog was freezing and wet and also muddy, so I let her in, but penned her into the room so I could run and get a towel.  She proceeded to freak out because I had to touch her feet to dry them off and continued to spazz and shiver while I attempted to dry her off and reduce as much of the wet dog smell as I could.

Our poor Buzz Lightyear towel will never be the same.

I'm lucky I get to take the cat.  She's much less of a pain in the behind about her adventures.

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