Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy Lives THE Life

My little baby boy isn’t a baby anymore!

Ernie turned 3 on December 26th so he’s no longer a puppy but he IS still a terrorist.. especially when it comes to my pillows or anything with stuffing.

But he’s very much Mommy’s baby..

In fact, the only thing I have to say is “… whoooo’s thhheee BAAAAYYYbeeee” and he jumps up in my arms, throws himself backwards like he’s an infant.

Doesn’t matter how rambunctious he is.. as soon as I say it BAM! And you can just hear his little cartoon voice saying, “.. I AM the Baby!! I AM!!”

Yes, we do have cartoon voices for our dogs.  Ernie’s is a high pitched little boy’s voice and Bella’s sounds like Queen Elizabeth. No lie. We’re weird.

I wasn’t in the market for another dog that day 3 January’s ago when I walked into the kitchen, half groggy, and Chief whispered “PUPPIES!” in my ear!

Yes! Yes! PUPPIES!! PUPPIES!! PUPPIES!!

It takes sooooo little to make me loose my mind!

Chief wanted Spaz to have a dog.. one that would be his best friend.. who would give him unconditional love.

That didn’t happen because Spaz didn’t want to put the time in to bond with Ernie. As soon as it became inconvenient, Spaz didn’t want anything to do with them. One reason why people should really think long and hard before getting a puppy. Hmph.

But Ernie wasn’t going to lack in the love department.. between ME the queen of dogs and Chief, who melts faster then butter in heat when it comes to the dogs, Ernie became well.. THE BAAAAYYYBBBBEEEE.

My fault.

I own it.

But look at that face!! How can you resist?

And yes, he’s a vocal, neurotic mess. But he’ll never have to worry about some one else trying to understand him and his language.

Because make no mistake.. this dog TALKS.

He also HAS to sleep under the covers. He’s never figured out that he can’t get under the covers when he stands on them.. but that’s when he gets obnoxious and tells us that he wants under.

And then does the 3 turn ritual before finally laying down behind the crook of either of our knees. Waits 5 minutes and then crawls out because he’s hot. This goes on about 4 or 5 times before Chief yells at him and he dives under the bed with his ears back.

Why am I posting about Ernie?

Sleep deprivation?

Lack of caffeine?

Boredom?

All of the above?

LOL .. I have no idea. He’s such a cuddle monkey that when he came in from the freezing rain he couldn’t wait to get all warm and cozy next to Mommy.

And just so you know…

I’m not one of those in people that think their dogs are kids. I’m fully aware that my dogs are dogs and treat them like dogs… I don’t put clothes on them.. don’t put bows in their hair or paint their nails.

But they have my heart..

We think that the reason why Ernie is SO OBNOXIOUSLY attached is because he was taken from his mama too young.. make sense.. he was sort of like a duckling imprinting on the first thing he sees.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.. because Ernie (and Bella!!) are to me what he was suppose to be for Spaz.

An ear to vent to.. cuddles for comfort.. company when lonely.. and goofy giggles.

Two days before Christmas, Ernie and Bella got out of the house while me and Chief were food shopping.

The front door hadn’t been closed properly and when the high winds blew open the screen door, the front door opened also.

Ernie, being Ernie darted out.

Bella, being Bella, followed.

We didn’t know how long they were missing and had no clue which direction they went.

I was literally heart sick for two very different reasons.

Bella is old.. almost 15 and gimpy. She wouldn’t be able to get far physically but I was worried that trying to keep up with Ernie she would collapse.. maybe get hit by a car.. or the trolley .. or have a heart attack.

Ernie, being young and spy could have been in Oregon for all I knew.

The fear was crippling.. I understand how parents feel when their kid doesn’t come home. We literally ran all over the town looking for them.

Spaz finally found them, literally across the street in the cemetery. When I got the call that they were home, I sat on the one of the neighborhood curbs and thanked God with everything I had in me.

And I have absolutely no clue why I’m going into all this.. exhaustion I guess.. and maybe because both dogs are loudly snoring next to my bed and it’s the most comforting sound.

2011 Intentions

I don’t do “resolutions” but when I read somewhere about someone making “intentions” because it’s less pressure I was like THAT’S IT!!

NOTE: Apologies to who ever I stole that from.. it may have been from a blog or on Facebook.. maybe even Bethenny Frankle’s twitter.. not sure so sorry for forgetting!

Anyway..

So I know with the New Year, it’s a good time to reflect, take stock and make the changes in your life that will make you a better, healthier person so I thought that I’d share mine with you.

IN 2011, LEESE INTENTS TO:

• Invent a gadget that prevents the bathroom door from opening unless the toilet is flushed. Being the only person in the house without a dangling thing makes this necessary!
• Not eat the whole bag of Stacy’s Parmaesan and Garlic Pita Chips. Frankly, it doesn’t take long to kill a bag and while they are way more then delicious, what they do to the back end on the way out isn’t pretty. Nothing is worth feeling that bad over.
• Be more conscience on how I act, what I say or things that I do representing my faith. This is a serious one, I know, but as I get older and face the things I have to face, I realize how important Christ is and more importantly, where I would be without Him. Rather, where I wouldn’t be.
• Not curse so much. It isn’t lady-like!
• Not make fun of Chief and his obsession with reading the Drudge Report and watching REAL! LIVE! UFO VIDEOS! on You Tube.
• Not roll my eyes when Chief tells me of yet another state where millions of dead birds fell from the sky. Really… no! seriously!
• Keep the back seat of my car clean. It doesn’t bode well when I try to get the kids to clean their rooms and they tell me that my car looks like a homeless person lives in it.
• Not forget to feed the fish. Those poor fish.
• Cuddle more with Bella. The old girl is getting up in years and with all the attention that Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy and the cats get, I really don’t want her to feel left out. Although she’s probably more then happy to just eat, sleep and poop without the having to pretend she’s excited that I’m sitting on the floor next to her keeping her from sleeping.
• Not quote lines from the Real Housewive’s franchise.
• Stop justifying polygamy to Chief. Not that I would ever want to practice it, mind you.. but really, how awesome would it be to have a sister wife to do the laundry.. another to do the cleaning.. another to do the ironing.. another to clean the *gag* bathroom.. you get the idea!! LOL
• Learn more about Dr. Who then Chief does.. and he knows A LOT!!!
• Continuing writing all my blogs.. and play less Zuma Blast on Facebook. Ok. No.. I don’t think I can do that!

So that’s what I came up with so far. As me in a month and I’ll let you know how it’s going!

But you know.. Stacy’s Parmesan and Garlic Pita Chips sound awwwwffuuullly good right now!!

WARNING: I’m Going On A Major Rant Here

.. I say this because the last time I went on a rant about I vented about my douchebag husband and his blobs of DNA swamp pool spawn, I got a finger wagging and a  lecture from some one :: sorry, Dude.. don’t remember your name and really don’t feel like looking it up :: who said that I was “having a bad day” and taking it out on Chief .. that I was “.. beating him up over his kids” .. that I “.. beat him up for not have good parents” and that I don’t talk to him in the manner I should.

No.. this isn't me. Although I think she might be pretty cute if she wasn't so frustrated!!

So Mr. Why-Don’t-Read-Delve-Alittle-Further-Before-Berating-Me .. you might not want to read any further.

Ok.

So lets back up to last night.

All day yesterday I’ve been chest issues. There was a pain in the center of my chest and it felt like I was having a hard time breathing. It may just be the after math of jumping over the counter last week because believe me.. there’s been aches and pains in places where I haven’t had aches and pains before. Remember.. I’m not as young as I used to be!

So the big question of the day was what were we going to have for dinner. It’s ALWAYS the big question of the day but since it’s been soooo fucking hot and humid where I live, I wasn’t looking forward to turning on the oven or standing in front of the stove. So he decided we’d hit a drive through.

After we closed the store and got into the car, it NOW became the debate of WHICH drive through to go to. I told him I didn’t care because I really didn’t feel like eating anyway.

He HATES when I don’t eat. HATES IT. Like.. he’s my grandmother reincarnated. I told him that I really didn’t feel good.. really shouldn’t even have been driving and just wanted to go home and go to sleep. He asked me if I wanted to go to the doctors, to which I replied he could make an appointment for me when I’m dead.

The usual banter.

So we wound up at Burger King and after ordering value meals for them, I decided to just get a mini burger in case I got hungry later. I hadn’t eaten anything all day and figured that once I wake up feeling better I may have an appetite. So we get everything and we get home and as soon as  I come through the back door and see all the crap in the sink and all the stuff left out on the counters when it should have been in the fridge and all the crumbs and the over flowing trash can.. I walk into the dining room where Bubba was on the computer and Spaz was on the couch and said, “… nobody’s eating until the kitchen it cleaned the way it’s suppose to be.”

Chief was like, “.. yea! What’s this about? Get off your asses and clean up your mess! How many times have I told you to pick up after yourselves…” blah blah blah blah blah.

So Bubba get up and goes into the kitchen and Spaz comes running up to me saying that he told Bubba to do his dishes.. blah blah blah blah blah.

We finally sit at the table..

Wait.

Back up..

Earlier when I doing Weed’s laundry, Bubba had gotten up at 4pm and immediately him and Spaz started arguing over the computer. It was a good thing that I had to bring Weed his clothes then or else I think I would have knifed them both.

Not pretty. But real, none the less.

So when we got back to the house, I figured since both of them were home that Chief needed to address the fighting over the computer issue which is why I sat at the table instead of going to bed.

I should have went to bed.

Trust on that.

We’re sitting there and after Chief asks me why I only got a mini burger and after me telling him because my chest really, really hurts.. I say, “.. we need to have a conversation about the computer and all the fighting that’s going on about because truthfully, I can’t take it anymore.”

Chief was like, “.. yea.. no body is allowed on the computer for more then two hours at a time.”

And then Bubba said something about not liking mayo or steak sauce or something and Spaz said that he liked mayo and Chief just went right down that road discussing the pros and cons of various condiments.

So yea.. nothing accomplished there.

I got done eating half a mini burger.. gave the other half to the dogs.. and when I went into the bedroom I had forgotten that I had started sorting the our laundry earlier. So I got up.. went down the basement.. got the extra laundry hamper.. came back upstairs.. put the whites in one and the darks in the other..

Chief asked me if I was doing laundry now and I told him.. no, my chest is hurting.

As I dragged the hampers out into the dining room, Bubba was playing with Ernie the Terrorist Puppy and he asked me if I saw the sore on his back. When I went to look, I saw what  must have been four or five fleas.

Now I had given both dogs flea baths and used Frontline on them not even a month ago so I was a little put off about that. But seeing the sore on the dogs back, I couldn’t not just let that go.

So I tell Chief that the dogs are going to have to be bathed. He said he would take the out so that Ernie would be on the leash since I had to wash them in the tub and there was NO. WAY. IN. HELL. that Ernie was getting anywhere NEAR the tub.. he dives under the bed whenever you pick up a spray bottle.

Any spray bottle.

So while he’s outside with the dogs, I get the spray thing for the tub faucet and the flea stuff and the towel. He brings Ernie into the bathroom, I lift him up into the tub and start shampooing him. Chief says he’ll be right back and hands me the leash.

Now.. what the FUCK am I suppose to do with that? My hands are all soapy and sudsy and I can’t continue to wash him and told the leash at the same time so I call for Spaz and tell him to hold the leash.

Spaz is talking a mile a minute asking asinine question after asinine question and answering them himself.

I just drowned him out and continued doing what I was doing. But when I finished, my back was killing me .. my chest was hurting more and I knew that there was NO way in hell that I was going to be able to wash Bella in the tub. She’s too big a gal and I wasn’t going to be able to lift her in.. lift her out.. OR manage washing everything on her that needed to be washed.

She’s like a baby seal.

So after Ernie is all finished and running around the house like the Crack Whore on speed, I go into the bedroom and there’s Chief, sitting on the bed playing on the PS3.

You’re kidding me, right?

That important?

Ok.

So I tell him that I’m going to have to wash Bella outside in the kiddie pool because I can’t lift her into the tub.

No response.

I say it again.. no response.

Mind you, I’m about two feet away from him.

Mind you, he played PS3 ALL. FUCKING. DAY at the store.

So finally  I was like CHIEF!!!!!!!!!!!

He was like, “.. oh. I’m sorry. What did you say?”

So I told him again and he was like, “ok.”

So I was like, “… you going to help me or what?”

“… oh yea.. yea.. I’ll help you. Just get everything ready.”

I bit my tongue and went down the basement.. connected the hose to the laundry tub sink.. ran the house up the steps and outside.. got the kiddie pool set up.. get the towel .. got the shampoo.. got BELLA.. and waited.

And waited.

While I was waiting, I checked Bella for fleas and OMG did she have them. She has a really, really think undercoat and long Lassie-like hair that I cut back when it gets warm. There always one spot on the back right about her tail that is always balding so when I checked her and saw soooo many fleas, I was literally at a loss. Meanwhile, the mosquitos started hitting so I go in the house and went into the bedroom to see what’s holding Chief up and he’s STILL playing PS3 AND he even started another 10 minutes round.

I was like, “… what are you doing?”

He said, “.. I’m just playing this match”

I said, “.. you were just playing a match before when I came in”

He said, “.. I know but it sucked so I started another one.”

And then he called for Spaz to help me because.. yknow.. playing Call of Duty is SO MUCH MORE important then helping me, right?

Silly fool I am.

So me and Spaz are outside and I’m trying to direct him in actually helping me but he just wants to play with the hose. I literally go in the pool with the dog and sat in the water in order to do what I had to do to get the fleas off her. And then he slapped a mosquito off his leg and said, “.. ok. I’m going in.” and left.

Now.. not only is my chest hurting but add on top of it the frustration.. the anger.. and all the other rainbow of emotions that were going on and I was literally  just on the verge of a breakdown.

I finally get the dog washed and dried off.. go back into the house.. put the hose away.. put the clothes that had been in the washer in the dryer.. put all the dog stuff away.. wash the glasses and utensils that were STILL in the sink :: because LORD KNOWS when you say “.. do the dishes” they only DO THE DISHES :: .. clean up the shit that was still on the dining room table.. go into the bedroom where Chief finally turned off the PS3 but was all engrossed in Bill O’Reilly… changed out of my wet clothes.. then went into the bathroom and scrubbed the tub.

When I was finished.. I went back in the bedroom and said to him, ”.. yknow if I didn’t do anything because it was hard.. or boring.. or because I just don’t want to do it, nothing in this fucking house would get done”

HE said, “.. what did Spaz not help you?”

And I said, “.. YOU didn’t help me. HE didn’t help me. NOBODY helps me’

And with that he clammed up with nothing to say.. put on the History Channel and I just got in bed went to sleep.

This morning he wakes me up at 630am because I have to drive Weed all the way back to the rehab place because he forgot to take home his wallet and GOD FORBID if he didn’t have his ID to buy booze. And I had to go early because.. omg! Can’t leave Chief out on a limb, right?

He goes out into the kitchen and I hear him say, ”.. you’re kidding, right? You’re kidding me, right?”

Because at 630am, Bubba was still up from the night before on the computer. I don’t know what Bubba said but Chief didn’t say anything else and as I got dressed and was walking out of the bedroom I reminded Chief that it was trash day. He takes the bag from the trash can and calls for Bubba.

Who doesn’t answer.

He YELLS for Bubba.

Who doesn’t answer.

He SCREAMS for Bubba .. who doesn’t answer because he has headphones on. Chief goes out into the dining room and tells Bubba to put a trash bag in the trashcan.

Now, I’m still hurting from last night. Emotionally more then anything so I’m not my usual giddy self and was thankful that I had to drive an hour or so up and back with Weed because I really didn’t want to be around Chief so much. But this afternoon, around 3, we’re sitting in the back of the store and Chief says to me, “.. I know you were upset last night but honestly, I started to not feel good around dinner.”

I just said, “.. I didn’t feel good either.”

He was like, “.. I’m sorry.” But not in the remorseful way.. more in the snarky way?

End of conversation.

Of course.

So I leave the store and have to stop at the supermarket to get something for dinner and when I got back.. a replay of what I found last night in the kitchen was before me.

Dishes.. crumbs.. butter left out.. you name it.

So I said something like, “.. you got to be fucking kidding me” and Spaz heard me and came into the kitchen trying to maneuver between me and the sink.

I asked him what he was doing and he was like, “.. oh, I want to help you.”

And I was like, “.. No. You’re not going to come in here at 5 o’clock to “help” me when you had all damn day to “help me” but you didn’t want to then so don’t think you’re going to do it now and act like you’re all great and wonderful because let me tell you Bucky, you’re not.”

I think I might have told him to just leave me alone.

And you know what? I don’t feel one little iota of guilt about it either.

He leaves but then comes back a few minutes later to tell me that the reason why he slept out in the living room was because HIS room is FULL OF FLEAS.

Really?

REALLY?

So I said, ‘.. how could YOUR room be filled with fleas when the dogs aren’t even IN your room but they SLEEP in my room.. SLEEP IN MY BED and OUR room ISN’T FULL OF FLEAS?”

He couldn’t answer that because it wasn’t true. Because if his room was full of fleas, he would have been yelling, screaming and hollaring the night before because he yells, screams and hollars about EVERYTHING that bothers him.

And while I’m washing the dishes and scrubbing the counter, Bubba comes in and says that their room IS full of fleas.. at least TEN.. and I told him the same thing AND asked him why he didn’t put the trash bag in the trash can like his father asked him to and he said he didn’t hear him.. he said that Chief told him to do the dishes and I wearily said, No.. he did not.. but even IF he did.. YOU STILL DIDN”T DO THE DISHES.

He walks out of the kitchen because there’s nothing he can say either and so I continue to clean their mess and when I got to the stove where there was dried up egg and melted cheese and bits of ham all over it AND the wall.. I went to move a pot that’s been sitting on the back burner with a little frying pan on top of it :: I have limited space for my pots and pans :: and..

And..

OH MY FUCKING GOD I ALMOST THREW THE FUCK UP.

Because in that pot that’s been sitting on the back burner for a few weeks because I haven’t been cooking the way I normally so because it’s been ungodly hot and humid .. was a ring of sausage that Chief started to cook a few Sundays ago. Apparently, he finished boiling it.. changed his mind on what he was going to do with it.. and put the little frying pan on top of it as a lid.. and forgot about it.

The STENCH alone was vomit inducing.

The maggots.. well, I won’t tell you what happened when I saw the maggots.

Yes. You read that right.

And believe me.. I am so mortally embarrassed to have to even write that. I am mortified that I have to tell ANY of this but THIS is what I’m dealing with.. THIS is what I have to put up with.. THIS is what Mr. Berate Me For Not Being More Sympathetic To The Douche Bag needs to know.

So I call Chief up.

“.. remember that sausage you made a while ago?”

“yea”

“.. do you know what happened to it?”

“um…. silence… silence.. silence.. oh.”

So I tell him that you thought not having a trash bag in the trash can like you told your son to do this morning is bad? You think all the dishes and shit on the counter is bad? Yea.. nothing compares to a pot full of maggots.

He kept saying “I’m sorry” and when I didn’t respond.. I mean, really.. how are you suppose to respond to that???? .. he was did the PLEADING Im sorry.

When I told him that I had to hang up and de-stench-ify the kitchen, he had the BALLS to ask what was for dinner.

I told him whatever I could cook that didn’t make me want to throw the fuck up in the process.

So right now I’m SO WAY BEYOND pissed and I know how I am when I get like this and I really should just get up and go out until he’s asleep because this is not going to be pretty.

At all.

I’m Suing The WPCA, SPCA, ASPCA and PETA for Emotional Extortion!

Ok.. I’m done.

I’m in bed with Chief snoring next to me.. Moan-ah at the foot of the bed.. and Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy doing his neurotic OMG I HAVE TO GET UNDER THE COVERS routine and doesn’t stop until he’s all wrapped up like a burrito.

The dog’s an idiot.

The internet is not offering anything stimulating so I figured I’ll turn on the tv because that will put me to sleep in like.. 5 minutes.

I switch the channel to Discover I.D. or something like that..

So I’m watching this show and then THE commercial comes on..

The sad music..

The voice over saying, “… she watched her mother get shot and now she lives in a wooden box.”

The video showing a baby monkey in a crate..

No! NO! NOOOOOOOO!!!

The voice over saying, “.. he watched his mother get beaten to death”

The video showing a baby bear cub.. patches of hair missing.. iron collar around his neck chained to a post..

The voice over saying, “.. now he gets beaten unless he dances”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I start humming out loud, desperately trying to find the remote that’s all twisted up in the Ernie burrito..

The voice overs keep coming, “.. she saw her sisters be drown” … “he saw his mother worked to death”..

And I’m afraid to even THINK about looking at the television screen because if there’s anything.. ANYTHING.. I’m a sucker for it’s animals and seeing pictures like that.. or hearing stories like that.. or even THINKING about things happening like that make me a big puddle of weepy jello ..

I go to jump out of bed and manually change the channel but I forgot Bella is sleeping on the floor next to the bed so when I put my feet on the floor, I accidentally step on her.. and of COURSE it would be on the side where she has really bad arthritis on her hip.. so she yelps and gets up and starts hobbling..

Now I’m devastated and I’m trying NOT to step on her again as I try to get around her and her black coat in a dark room when I catch a picture of the baby donkey with it’s front leg tied to it’s back leg trying to walk and then I just LOST IT.

LOST IT!

I start the whole silent sob thing because of what’s been lasered into my brain and because of hurting Bella and of course, I’m not really silent doing anything so it wakes Chief up.

He gets all panicky because I’m crying and he’s trying to get me to tell him what’s wrong and I can’t get the words out so all I can do it point at the tv and then he gets it.

Because if there is only one thing this man knows.. he knows how I am and how I get when animals are involved.

It’s the sole reason why I’m not allowed to name the fish.

So he does his whole boo-boo face “awwww” thing and while I’m crying on his shoulder about all the cruelty in the world he tells me I’m adorable and this.. THIS.. THIS COMPASSION is the reason why he loves me so much.

And here I thought it was my hot, rockin’ body!!

I start to get over myself and apologize for waking him up and he tells me it’s fine.. and then goes on this litany of why these organizations make these commercials just to get reactions like this from pathetic people like me.

ME: Um.. wait? I’m pathetic? Didn’t you just say I was adorable?

HIM: Well.. um.. your adorable BECAUSE you’re pathetic.

ME: You’re an asshole.

HIM: I know..

ME: Good night, honey.

HIM: ‘Night, baby.

‘Cause that’s just how we roll!

Mensa Meeting At 4am

Do you see the time??

It’s 4 freakin’ 30 in the AM .. as in MORNING.. as in WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAZY BITCH DOING WRITING A POST??

Yknow.. something are just too damn bizarro not to write in the moment.

So .. ok.. I wake up to Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy flung over my chest like a bean-bag.. his head nuzzling my neck and he’s doing that insane nasally whine thing that he does.

For those of you who don’t know, Ernie thinks he’s a boy without thumbs. My fault. I made him that way. He was way too young when we got him and I was all hearing whatever biological thing was ticking and so he became my baaaaabbbbbbyyyyy. He’s a lot older then 6 weeks now and he’s a mental head so I guess I have to live with it.

A’ight.. so he’s doing his whining thing and I know it’s because he wants to go O-U-T :: I have to spell it because if he hears the word he’ll want to go again!! :: Usually, Chief takes them around 6am but I guess him getting up to go to the bathroom threw off Ernie’s routine.

Or he needs a watch. Or maybe he just needs to tell time, dammit.

So he’s bugging me since I was already awake :: I hate when I fall asleep too early because Chief is watching Entering the Worm Hole for the millionth time! :: and I figure I’ll take them out and give Chief the morning off.

Ernie’s all excited .. WE’RE GOING OUT! WE’RE GOING OUT! WAKE UP BELLA, WE’RE GOING OUT!!! .. which makes Bella all confused because you know, she’s old and probably senile and the only thing she’s really concerned with is getting the treat when they come in so she’s WHOOOO WHOOO WHOOO-ing .. they’re both weaving themselves in and out of my ankles as I’m trying to get out of bed.. find my shoes.. grab my cigarettes and glasses and find my way  out of the bedroom without waking the house up or tripping over Chief’s shorts that he left on the floor.

Now.. for those of you who don’t know, I live in a big old single house that’s on the point of where three streets intersect. I have a fairly decent size front lawn.. a fairly decent size side lawn that runs the length of the house to the fairly decent back yard. It’s just big enough to piss you off when you have to either mow it or shovel the sidewalks when it snows. Unfortunately, I don’t have a fence. The owner of this Ghetto Chateau wouldn’t allow up to put one up even though we offered to pay for the whole thing.

Ok.. so never mind about that.

Anyway.. Ernie has to be kept on a leash because he’s a runner. He still has his balls :: which are going to be clipped soon, little dog! :: and so we have something like 4 extra long leashes tied together for him. Bella is a WHOLE other story. She’s old and slow and fat and has arthritis in her hips. She’s kinda like a baby seal. Plus, even though she may bark she only has about 3 teeth left and their wobbly so she is absolutely no threat to anyone. I don’t put her on a leash because she sticks to the grass does her business and goes back inside.

Now.. I know you’re going to scream at me that accidents happen and the what not.. and you’re absolutely right. I don’t condone walking dogs off a leash but trust me, you can cut me some slack on this one.

Anyway.. 604+ words later..

So I’m outside with the dogs and it’s beyond quiet. I live across the street from a cemetery and since we’re basically behind the center of town there’s no traffic.. no people.. no nothing. Just me and the dogs. We’re on the side of the house near the big ass shade tree when I hear a car roll up and when I turn around I’ m staring into head lights.

The city girl in me is like, WTF Asshole??? And then the little red and blue lights start flashing and then the suburban girl in me is like WTF ASSHOLE??? You see the illustrious police force here are a bunch of morons.. idiots and douchebags. All four of them.

So when I face the car, DoucheBadge #311 says to me: Do you want to tell me what you’re doing out at this hour? To which I responded Are you KIDDING me? while holding up the dog leash.

DoucheBadge #311 looks at Ernie and says: Is that your dog?

At that point, I thought he  may have been referring to Bella but she’s black and back in the dark part of the yard laying down near a pile of broken tree branches. I knew she was there but there was no way he hell he could of. So I was like Um.. yeaaaa.. I just take random people’s dog for walks at 4 o’clock int he morning.

DoucheBadge #311 gets out of the car and says .. I kid you not .. Why are you walking your dog at 4am? And I’m all ARE YOU KIDDING ME? DO YOU NOT THINK I’D RATHER BE IN BED??? which came out as: Um.. because he had to go to the bathroom? Complete with shoulder shake and head bob.

He actually looked confused and further established that this is THE most idiotic police department in the county by saying You are aware that there are leash laws in this borough? I hold up Ernie’s blue leash and tell him that there’s a dog attached to the other end. And then I swear I saw a flash of the 12 year old boy who used to get bullied in the school year because he responded Yea.. well.. there’s litter laws too!!

By now I’m done playing the game. I wanted to get back in the house.. back to sleep.. AND get the one dog who was OFF the leash back inside without him seeing that she was OFF the leash :: I did have a plan in case he spotted her though :: so I say to him: Are you looking for somebody or SHOULD you be looking for somebody because I have my LEASHED dog on my OWN property and I’m sure there are TONS of meth heads and drunks on the boulevard RIGHT NOW that you could be harassing.

He did not appreciate that.

At all.

He said: You could be arrested for disorderly conduct.

So I rolled my eyes and said: Fine. Let me put the dog in the house, throw on some socks and underwear and I’ll be right out so you can do that, ok Bucky?

Here’s the thing. When I know that I’m in trouble for doing something that I actually did then yea, I get all worried about being sent up to the big house and being somebody’s bitch but this bullshit is just bullshit and he knew that I knew it was bullshit but he had committed to laying down the bullshit.

He wound up getting a call over the radio .. I think there was a donut delivery at Dunkin’ Donuts that needed his immediate attention.. and so he gets back into his car saying: Keep that dog on a leash.

So he drives off and I come back in the house with the dogs.. wake Chief up and tell him that he has dog duty from now on. He just grunted and went back to sleep and I just had to tell SOMEBODY about this!! LOL!!

Lucky.. lucky you!!