Tuesday, December 13, 2011

The *&#@! dog

 I love my pets. I really do. But when I am annoyed with them, they become generic animals. For instance, when Jack is being sweet I call him Jack. But when he is being obnoxious and whining to be fed I refer to him as "the cat." When Buddy is being cute and saying "pretty bird" and "kiss kiss" I call him Buddy. But when he starts screeching and being shrill in the mornings, he becomes "the bird." Ditto for Lucy/"the dog." 

Sometimes, when the animals are particularly annoying, I even refer to them as "the *@*# dog/cat/bird."

Let me tell you about the *@*# dog. 

Last night we all noticed a foul odor in the house. Really foul. Disgusting, even. It was terrible. We were all walking around with our noses wrinkled up in disgust trying to determine what the foul stench was and where it was coming from. 

It was coming from THE DOG.

You see, we live on the water. There are a lot of ospreys and eagles around. Occasionally, the birds drop fish in our yard. Guess who apparently found one of the dead fish and rolled in it?

Can you guess who slept outside last night?

Can you guess who whined and barked and carried on like a big, hairy baby all night long and kept me awake?

Can you guess who will be shampooing carpet and mopping and spraying Febreeze everywhere today and who is not happy with the *$%# dog and if the freaking *$#& dog doesn't stop her whining and crying before she gets a bath and is allowed back in the house will pinch her stupid, shedding little head off??!!!

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