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Going. To Kill. The Dog.
Aug. 4th, 2002 04:21 pmSo I spent a couple hours this morning cleaning and everything looked great when I was done but I'm still not feeling well at all (as in, drinking water gave me the stomach pains of hell this morning) so I went to lie down for a while. Get back up a couple hours later, go out into the kitchen and scream--
Trisha's cocker, Keish, has this thing in the summer where she digs these big-ass holes and climbs in and scoots around to get her coat all nice and full of dirt, and then she shakes and I see the big pile of dirt and sigh and say, are you done? And I pat her, and she seems dirt-free, so I let her in. And then I turn around and there's a little pile in the house and I shake my fist at her then clean it up.
Today. Today, I didn't bother to pat her when I let her in, I just laid down. And when I came out into the kitchen, there was a layer of dirt from the front door allllllll the way back. Like, seriously, a layer of dirt so thick I could not see the floor. WTF? I don't even know how she carried all that in here! So, I'm screaming, just horrified, and she crawls out from under my bed, walks calmly into the middle of the kitchen, and pees! Just. Pees. In. All. The. Dirt.
I'm like, OK. OK. Do not kill her. So I put her outside again, back on her run, and I calmly started to clean up. More than two hours later, I'm finally washing the floor. It took me that long to sweep up all the dirt, and clean the mess, and I had to wash the walls because there was like dirt ground into them a foot high!
She's not coming back in this house for a week. You might think I'm kidding, but I'm not. We're having a party here on Friday and some of the guests are allergic to dogs anyway so, yes. Banished. I wasn't going to do that until like, Wednesday, but it starts now. I'm too tired and too frigging stressed to deal with her crap right now.
Honestly, it was like a poltergeist had struck my kitchen. Or like she'd been possessed or something. Uuuuuugh.
And, you know, I was gonna sit down in front of the computer and finish my stupid hammock story but now I can't focus. I'm in too pissy a mood. For once in my life, I am praying that I just have PMS. I would hate to think that I could be this foul-tempered without good reason. Well, OK, more good reason than an Evil Fucking Dog. Grrrrrrrrr.
Trisha's cocker, Keish, has this thing in the summer where she digs these big-ass holes and climbs in and scoots around to get her coat all nice and full of dirt, and then she shakes and I see the big pile of dirt and sigh and say, are you done? And I pat her, and she seems dirt-free, so I let her in. And then I turn around and there's a little pile in the house and I shake my fist at her then clean it up.
Today. Today, I didn't bother to pat her when I let her in, I just laid down. And when I came out into the kitchen, there was a layer of dirt from the front door allllllll the way back. Like, seriously, a layer of dirt so thick I could not see the floor. WTF? I don't even know how she carried all that in here! So, I'm screaming, just horrified, and she crawls out from under my bed, walks calmly into the middle of the kitchen, and pees! Just. Pees. In. All. The. Dirt.
I'm like, OK. OK. Do not kill her. So I put her outside again, back on her run, and I calmly started to clean up. More than two hours later, I'm finally washing the floor. It took me that long to sweep up all the dirt, and clean the mess, and I had to wash the walls because there was like dirt ground into them a foot high!
She's not coming back in this house for a week. You might think I'm kidding, but I'm not. We're having a party here on Friday and some of the guests are allergic to dogs anyway so, yes. Banished. I wasn't going to do that until like, Wednesday, but it starts now. I'm too tired and too frigging stressed to deal with her crap right now.
Honestly, it was like a poltergeist had struck my kitchen. Or like she'd been possessed or something. Uuuuuugh.
And, you know, I was gonna sit down in front of the computer and finish my stupid hammock story but now I can't focus. I'm in too pissy a mood. For once in my life, I am praying that I just have PMS. I would hate to think that I could be this foul-tempered without good reason. Well, OK, more good reason than an Evil Fucking Dog. Grrrrrrrrr.
