I'm developing a very deep and thoughtful post about unity in the church...but for now...
I present my morning for your enjoyment.
7:00 Groggy, but awake, naturally. Realize that I only had one nighttime visitor (Joey) last night and that the baby slept through the night. Silent rejoicing! I stay in comfy bed.
7:30 Frank's alarm goes off. Baby starts crying. Get up to feed baby. Need to change baby. Ew. Poo proves baby has just started eating baby food.
7:45 Groan from Frank. "Uh...the dog got into the trash again. I forgot the trash was still here." He had put the trash by the back door because...ironically....neighborhood dogs get into our trash when we put it outside. Fun. Fun. Especially since the trash contained, in Frank's words, "half a crumbled wall" that came from our latest home improvement project. I start to clean.
7:50 Trashed contained more or less. Open door to take trash out since it's trash day anyway. See that one of the bags of trash already outside has been spread across the yard by neighborhood dogs. Let out a strangled scream. Look up. See ugly big white dog who is responsible for my misery. Yell at dog to "GET! GET! GO HOME!" Run inside. Ask Frank where his pellet gun is. (He has used his pellet gun to scare away roaming dogs before. I know. It doesn't hurt them, but I always thought it was silly until today...) Realize I am over reacting. Go get more trash bags to clean up outside mess.
7:55 Open back door again. See big ugly white dog carrying one of my bags of trash down the alley. Scream "GET YOU STUPID DOG!" and wave my arms wildly, looking fantastically crazy in my purple sheep pajama pants and robe. Dog runs away (smiling). Grumble under my breath. Clean up trash OUTside. As I put the shredded trash bag inside a whole one, I realize the yellow liquid on the outside of the bag is probably dog pee. Commence gagging, but finish clean up, including many, many diapers.
8:05 Wash hands in scalding water and declare to Frank, "We are getting dog proof trash cans. I don't care HOW much they cost!" Frank guards the back door to make sure the dog is gone, loaded pellet gun in hand. (My hero!)
After that things went back to our normal crazy again. I'm not the poster child of responsible pet ownership by any means, but really. I shouldn't have to worry about large dogs eating my children in my own yard. Our town doesn't have a shelter for strays and I'm sure the police have much better things to do with their time. One time our neighbor called the police and complained that our dog barked too much and they actually they came to our house...so maybe not...but I refuse to be a waster their time. Anyway, our county is trying to raise money for a humane shelter in a tanked economy right now. I think I might finally contribute even though I normally put people before animals when I give...
17 comments:
*snort* Oh, I've so been there. Even with the leaving the trash INSIDE the door to keep dogs out of it. (Or raccoons or possums)
Fortunately, my dogs seem to know THEY can't touch it. And as long as the trash is just outside the garage AND in a can, other animals stay away now.
But right after Bob first adopted us, we started to notice missing newspapers in the morning. After a couple weeks of blaming the delivery guy, we realized that Bob was "fetching" them for us and shredding them all over the woods. We got a newspaper tube-box-thingy after that.
But I can still picture Bob, lying in wait at the end of the driveway at oh-dark-thirty to defend his new territory against the attacking daily news.
Steph, Bob sounds sweet.
Beth, you are putting people before animals. Uncared for dogs are a threat to people. Especially people with small hands who are very curious.
Steph-
I believe Frank described our dog as "Mini-Hooch" this morning. She loves a good mess.
And we found a dead raccoon under our porch last summer. We live on the main street of our town.
????
I love the name "Bob" for a dog.
You get a newspaper? :)
Helen- Bob IS sweet. If he weren't so stinky, even my hubby would pet him.
Beth- Bob's named for the movie "What About Bob?" Charlie's the Richard Dreyfuss character.
And THAT is why I'm a cat person. :)
Yeah, you might be a redneck!
Funny, but sad at the same time.
It's okay- I totally agree with Helen. You are putting people first.
Helen...yeah...I came to that conclusion, too, finally.
Steph...What About Bob...I love it.
Amy...I am a cat person, too, but I only discovered this after owning two dogs. But Phoebe is pretty much half-cat anyway, so I'll keep her.
My dad used to have an Olympic-type slingshot with mini ball bearings as ammunition. Animals learned to stay away after a short time.
We don't have that problem around here, at least not in my apartment complex. Not with those giant green metal bins. Although, we do have this little old lady that likes to "dumpster dive" for thrown away "treasures."
@Steph,
I love that movie!
wv: digma
60's-70's slang change-up for the word "dogma". You dig it?
We never had a problem with dogs at the old house. Our problem was crows! They would tear apart the trash and since we never knew what time they would come, it had to be out all day. Now we don't have issues being in the apartments.
We had the dumpster divers in a complex we lived in several years back. We would stare at them out of our front window and call the office to get them to leave.
The crows in Terre Haute scare me. That's a whole 'nother post!!
Beth, who cares if it hurts the dogs. Shoot em with the pellet gun. Darn dogs anyway. We used to do that as kids...open the door really slowly...aim....fire...'YELP'.
Better to hit the dog in the *ss with a pellet and listen to it yelp than to pick up bags of trash and week old diapers spread across the yard. (I'm sure that verse is in Proverbs somewhere.)
Annie K., ha ha ha.
and now.....
a kinder gentler Annie (NOT!)
In my neighborhood, since I know most of my neighbors, if I see a dog that I don't recognize, I'm either calling the pound or asking my dh to get a weapon.
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Come claim your prize!
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Actually its an airsoft gun. It is not as dangerous as a pellet gun. To make sure it wasn't going to hurt the animals too much, I shot myself in the stomach point blank. The pain nearly brought me to my knees, and the welt extended about a half an inch, but I was assured no animal would be seriously injured.
All that sarcasm under one roof? How DELIGHTFUL!!!!!!
No really, Kathy. He actually shot himself. I'm pretty sure I laughed at him.
But he is rather sarcastic, too....
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