Dear Puppy*,
While your eyes are adorable, and your looks are stunningly beautiful, you are PISSING ME OFF!
That plastic I found in the hallway yesterday that you had chewed, and I couldn't figure out what it was? The only trays I own to my tooth whitening kit.
Thanks for that, goddammit.
Puppy, you know our little ghetto garden with the few sparse strawberries? Yeah, you are NOT supposed to raid it for new fruit at all times, even if the plastic chicken wire is no longer standing. That strawberry I took from you, rinsed, and figured it was still safe to eat? Well, that was just bad judgement on my part, goddammit.
While I appreciate you keeping me company as I FINALLY begin to sort through my mounds of hoarder like papers/receipts/tax documents/insurance documents/gluten-free recipes, your compulsion to chew your bone on the assorted file folders on the floor (what?!? I am still in the organizational stage... or something...) has created wet, destroyed file folders and papers, which... um, kind of negate the whole saving and filing bizznazz, goddammit.
The fact that no matter the temperature you must, MUST, lay your head on my leg so I sweat even more is adorable, but really hot, and apparently not good for my whole alpha-dog-smoke-and-mirror facade the trainer has me attempting, goddammit.
That white-painted wooden baseboard along the carpet... you know that stuff? Where you exercise your extreme aversion to 90-degree corners, obliterating them in a near-silent chew-fest as I sit here and blog and not notice you are ingesting paint chips and lumber? It's supposed to remain in tact, goddammit! And stop licking that bitter apple spray!! You are supposed to despise it, goddammit!
Finally... you have allowed me to see why Feyoncé™ and I have lasted as long as we have.
I can be super problematic, much like yourself, but I must be as cute to him as you are to me, which makes it all okay. Goddammit.
Now come over here and lay on mommy's leg while you try to shower me with grass and paint-infused kisses.
Good girl.
*Disclaimer: Note, this post was written in "sarcasm" font. I am very clearly aware that all of this is within my power to change, animal rights peeps.
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Pin It Now!
While your eyes are adorable, and your looks are stunningly beautiful, you are PISSING ME OFF!
That plastic I found in the hallway yesterday that you had chewed, and I couldn't figure out what it was? The only trays I own to my tooth whitening kit.
Thanks for that, goddammit.
 |
| Her stunning good looks distract me from the next damaged item... |
Puppy, you know our little ghetto garden with the few sparse strawberries? Yeah, you are NOT supposed to raid it for new fruit at all times, even if the plastic chicken wire is no longer standing. That strawberry I took from you, rinsed, and figured it was still safe to eat? Well, that was just bad judgement on my part, goddammit.
While I appreciate you keeping me company as I FINALLY begin to sort through my mounds of hoarder like papers/receipts/tax documents/insurance documents/gluten-free recipes, your compulsion to chew your bone on the assorted file folders on the floor (what?!? I am still in the organizational stage... or something...) has created wet, destroyed file folders and papers, which... um, kind of negate the whole saving and filing bizznazz, goddammit.
The fact that no matter the temperature you must, MUST, lay your head on my leg so I sweat even more is adorable, but really hot, and apparently not good for my whole alpha-dog-smoke-and-mirror facade the trainer has me attempting, goddammit.
That white-painted wooden baseboard along the carpet... you know that stuff? Where you exercise your extreme aversion to 90-degree corners, obliterating them in a near-silent chew-fest as I sit here and blog and not notice you are ingesting paint chips and lumber? It's supposed to remain in tact, goddammit! And stop licking that bitter apple spray!! You are supposed to despise it, goddammit!
 |
| "I iz carefree dawggie. Your paperz are not mah concern." *runs away into long grass* |
Finally... you have allowed me to see why Feyoncé™ and I have lasted as long as we have.
I can be super problematic, much like yourself, but I must be as cute to him as you are to me, which makes it all okay. Goddammit.
Now come over here and lay on mommy's leg while you try to shower me with grass and paint-infused kisses.
Good girl.
*Disclaimer: Note, this post was written in "sarcasm" font. I am very clearly aware that all of this is within my power to change, animal rights peeps.
______________