WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?!
Seriously, this is ridiculous. We were happy! We were together! We were fine. Why’d you have to go screw it up?
We had a nice life together; really, we did. We would play, I would lie in your lap as you relaxed and watched television (remember when you used to relax and watch television?), you would take me to that great park where we would run and jump and deke and dive and run and jump…life was good! And then you brought that THING into the house…
First off, he stinks. I mean he smells terrible. Do you realize that my sense of smell is like a billion times better than yours? That thing is rancid.
Okay, he wasn’t that bad when you first brought him home. I mean, he stank, but at least he didn’t move too much. But he constantly needed feeding – remember, I eat twice a day and require precious little effort from you to do it – and you guys were not sleeping anymore. By the way: all of sudden he’s in the bed, and if my little toenail should touch a hair on his precious head you boot me to the floor? Excuse me; I was here first. What is this crap?
And here’s the other thing – when you guys don’t sleep, you’re cranky, whiny pains in my ass. It’s always, “Dixie off,” or, “Dixie leave it,” or “Dixie no.” Hey, I’m just being a dog, and don’t cry to me because you’re tired and I sleep all day! I didn’t ask to bring the thing home!
Alright, I mean, I guess sometimes he’s a little cute – like, I love it when he gives me his toys and pets me. But have I not made it clear that he isn’t welcome on my bed? Am I allowed in his crib? And what is it with my food? Why Is He Always Sticking His Hands In My Food? His hands are filthy and disgusting, and this is coming from a girl who regularly rolls in dog poo.
I do have to admit one thing: I like this little arrangement we’ve got going. Don’t get me wrong – I’m still pissed as hell and I’d have him deported to Tajikistan in a heartbeat – but as he’s gotten a little older, we can negotiate. Fortunately, he now understands that it’s only out of mercy and my respect for his parents that I allow him to roam the floor so free and unencumbered. And if he wants it to remain this way, he will give me his food. Currently my take is 50% of the protein and 25% of the carbs. He just throws it over the side of the high chair – no funny stuff.
But I’m telling you now, if he steals my rawhide one more time…