Friday, March 14, 2008

Evil. Puppies.

I’ve determined the following fact as of this morning: My dogs want me dead, and they will go through excruciatingly slow and painful procedures to achieve that end result.

Izzy has woken up in the middle of the night for the last three nights in a row. One night, it was because of her monthly hairball situation that causes her to have a cough throughout the night, makes her want to lick the floor (???), and jump off and on the bed at varying times as she attempts to sleep, but then can’t sleep, and then she decides she wants to be out in the living room instead and then back in the bedroom and AUGH! AUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!

Then the night before last, she woke up apparently needing to go out to go to the bathroom at 2 a.m. or 4 a.m. or some random time – I can’t remember due to my delirious condition. When she does that we wake up the puppy of course, who then barks so loudly, it makes me wonder if we’re going to wake the baby next door.

Last night, she got up again. I was PISSED. I had taken water away from the both of them a full hour before we went to bed, hoping to avoid the same situation we’d had the night before. Turned out she didn’t apparently need to go out to the yard, but she wanted water. *sigh!* So I got her some water, and tried to go back to bed. We’d woken Jake up, but not as badly as the night before so he quit barking from his crate pretty quickly.

Well, she didn’t get back into bed after that. She hovered at the door, and paced the room, and finally started whining a half hour after I’d gotten her the water. Fucker needed to go outside this time. Goddammit.

So I’m tired when I wake up this morning. Rightfully so. Leo is apparently sort of aware that something was going on (probably due to all my mid-night cussing at the dog for being such a pain in my ASS), so he asked what happened this morning before he left for work. (Dude sleeps like a rock in the middle of an abandoned desert at night...and I'm soooo jealous it makes me want to cry.) I told him that the dog hates me. End of story. I kiss him goodbye, and shut myself into the bathroom and away from the tumbling ball of fur(y) that starts itself up in the living room when Jake and Izzy see each other.

We tried to work out their energy levels. We went on a walk/drag/carry last night instead of me going to yoga class. Izzy got her walk, and Jake got his drag/carry (he’s not too good on a leash yet…so we wind up dragging him instead of walking him, which is actually very entertaining. Makes me wonder if one of our neighbors will see us out for a drag, laughing at the poor puppy on the end of the leash who appears to go comatose when the leash is snapped onto his collar, which is just sooo funny to see so we can’t help but laugh, and will call animal control on our asses, or something. But then we showed our neighbors who actually live next door what happens when we try to walk him, and THEY laughed as much as we did, and so we know we’re cool. (We carry him for most of the walk, and then plop him down every now and then to see if he’s ready to try walking himself. Then we pick him up after a short period of time – after he’s gathered plenty of small sticks and pebbles under his belly from being dragged down the sidewalk – and carry him as we walk normally with Iz. I plan to get it on video soon. Because we’re sick fuckers like that…)

Anyway, the animals…they hate me and want me dead. By slow, torturous actions they’re taking. Eevviiil puppies.

2 comments:

Coley said...

pets! They'll be the death of us all. At least they're fuzzy and cute.

faithstwin said...

It's because they are so cute and fuzzy that they are still alive.

I wanna come visit JUST so we can meet Jake! And seeing you would be nice...