Dog.
The day started innocently enough -- we went to Target to buy $100 worth of nothing, and as we parked, we noticed an extremely adorable dog in the SUV next to us. It was curly and caramel colored -- I'm thinking it was some sort of terrier/poodle mix, maybe a Whoodle (Wheaten Terrier + poodle). Although, if it were up to me, it'd be called a "Pooten." We stood there and marveled at how fucking cute it was and its amazingly docile temperament, and went on our way to buy a cart full of "we don't need this."
Then, a couple hours later, out of fucking nowhere, the Old Lady (a notorious feline-supporter) blurts out, "How would you guys like to get a DOG?!!!" What the shit?! Thanks for discussing such a life-altering utterance with the old man, first, woman. Of course, the spawn lost their shit and started doing the "we're getting a dog jig," as I sat there bow-wowldered. What possessed this woman who, a mere 20 or so years ago, took an alarmingly long time to decide between moving in with me, or continuing to live with her evil, me-hating cats.
But there we sat, coming up with potential names for our future third child. Here were their choices:
Mr. Z's Top 3:
Male
1.Russell
2. Hermes
3. Arthur
Female:
1. Juno
2. Medusa
3. Mouselet Chamberlain
Miss O's Top 3:
Male
1. Jeffrey
2. Bob
3. Tinkle-toot
Female:
1. Guinevere
2. Vivian
3. Roof-roof
And as we sat there, having this ridiculous conversation, I came to a realization. I love dogs, but I can't stand it when people get dogs and are then never around to hang with them. There are some people down the street who have this great Australian Border Collie that just sits in the fucking driveway, tied to the basketball hoop, all fucking day. This a dog that's bred to chase, I don't know, kangaroos or some weird Australian shit, but it's sitting in the fucking driveway all goddamn day, poor fucker. So, my realization, right. I'm at home all fucking day, sitting in the goddamn basement freezing my affenpinschers off. I have no friends. I never go outside.
A dog would be perfect! An office mate, someone to go out to lunch with and, best of all, a friend. A friend I don't even really have to talk to, or call, or do all that other bullshit you have to do to make/keep real friends. This friend would like me simply because I'd feed it and occasionally pick up its turds in a plastic grocery bag. It would be like being friends with Charles Bukowski.
But shit, a dog. Are we really ready to become a "dog family"? Stained carpets, all the pristine wood floors would get all scratched up, dog sputum on all the furniture, the whole house would smell like dog ass, instead of spawn ass, like it does now. Is that us? Are we they?!
I told the spawn today, "Now, if we were to get a dog, you guys would have to clean up your rooms a lot better. All those tiny Polly Pockets clothes, Miss O, and Mr. Z, all your pens and stuffed animals, they'd have to be put away, 'cuz a dog would chew on all that stuff and could get really sick." There was a momentary silence, followed by Mr. Z saying, "On second thought, maybe we shouldn't get a dog." I'm telling ya, that kid would sell us all into indentured servitude to get out of cleaning his fucking room.
So, will it happen? I don't fucking know. If we can find a legit breeder in this state, it just might. In the meantime, searching the web for pics of Whoodle/Pooten pups sure the fuck isn't helping:
Damn.
15 comments:
Dear Crabsters, we thought we were crazy, too, when we got our rescued stray from the Ingham County shelter. But she's great. Came housebroken, had to have her spayed. I can't imagine life without her. Here's another strange coincidence: my daughter's name is Juno and my maiden name is Chamberlin. Do your kids, like, know me or something? It's freakin me out.
Yes, anon, we're all watching you RIGHT THIS SECOND!
Thanks for the tip on the Ingham County shelter, though. We'll have to check it out. And I'll tell the kids to stop spying on you.
Snap out of it bruther! And this is from the seester who couldn't wait to move out of our deprived household to get her own dog. I have now come to realize that co-habitating with larger animals is disgusting. I have three words for you to rein you in from your canine delusions: plugged anal gland.
Coming from someone who lived with a shit-caked rabbit and some cannibalistic mice, your advice means a lot, seester.
And stop talking about my plugged anal gland in public.
Yes, my mice were cannibalistic, but you are remembering Elliott incorrectly. He wasn't shit-encrusted. Remember, I thought he had somehow gotten a mess of gum on his underside? My roommate and I tried to pull it off, but that's when we realized Elliott had become a man, and we were not pulling gum.
Today at work I saw a customer who appeared very antsy in the lineup. When it was his turn he had a pouch of doggie treats and appeared to be in a rush. I was relieved for my coffee break at the conclusion of his sale, and I was right behind him when he scuttled his eldery butt out the door.
The man who sells coffee outside called to him "Where is he anyways? At home already?" The customer yells back "No he's in the car, I just picked him up from the shelter." I butt in, "oh did your dog get lost?" Nope, turns out he rescued an abused dog who was all but unadoptable, due to the fact that he was butt ugly and also elderly and had fears of certain situations. He invited me to the car to take a peek at his new "little buddy"
I had to shake his hand. Commendable.
get a small dog...poops are smaller to clean up after hehehe.
If you do get a dog, adopt. My dog was four months old - still super-cute and puppy and fun, but old enough to control his bladder and get house-trained really fast. The best part? Aside from the fact that he's awesome, he cost us $50 and he came with a collar, a leash (though a really cheap one), a small bag of food and the neutered him for us. A breeder will charge you a shit-ton of money and they'll give you an eight-week old puppy who will poop and pee all over your house for the next two months. Because they aren't physically capable of holding it.
When you do get a dog, it will be wonderful. Then you'll hate the little fucker for a while when you fully realize how having a dog makes your life a little harder. After a while though, it's great again.
I love my dog and wouldn't change a thing about him but, when we first got him, it was kind of tough.
I have a dog and everyday I wake up to the realization that I will have to grasp feces in my grocery bag covered hand.
This is something I will never become comfortable with.
We just paid Stanley Steemer yet again to come out and remove doggie pee pee stains and smells. The warmer and more humid it becomes outside, the stronger the lingering doggie odors become.
Dog smells + spawn smells = stinkorama.
BEWARE.
Remember Daisy and her incessant ass licking? Plugged anal gland, indeed. Nothing good can come of letting a dog into your life. Listen to wise Kim and say no to dog. You've been warned from the Crabsters.
So, what I hear you all saying, loud and clear, is "Get a dog!"
Or not?
My gut reaction is to say "no way!"
Then I think about how much crabbier you will be with a dog.
Crabby Dog blog!
I think you should get a dog, but realize that it won't always be fun and, no matter how much you tell the, the kids will not take care of it.
Also be prepared for lots of gross stuff, the least of which is picking up poo and carrying it around until you can find a suitable recepticle.
In addition to clogged anal glands, which you will at some point have to "express," there are many other gross experiences you might have.
For instance, my dog had a weiner infection, causing it to drip mucusy stuff all over the house. The solution? Easy! just and antibacterial/antifungal rinse. How do you rinse a dog's weiner? You have to douche it.
DOUCHE IT. You have to stick a syringe in his pee-hole, squirt some solution in, hold it shut and masage it for a minute. Then you have to let it out. This is done twice a day for ten days, and it MIGHT NOT HELP. Luckily, for Hank and for me, it did.
Yes, I have douched my dog's weiner, and I would still recommend getting a dog. I mean, how could you resist this face?
http://recordstorerita.blogspot.com/2006/02/pictures-of-hank.html
Okay, I was going to say that you should get a dog and then I read the whole "Douche the weiner" comment and now I'm thinking about selling my dog.
Rita, you had to do that twice a day for ten days?! Crap, I hope Hank at least bought you dinner.
Post a Comment