Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Exciting! Adventures!! Now with TOOTHPASTE!!!
No habla English.
First thing this morning (and I mean, literally, ALMOST THE VERY FIRST THING I DID) I found myself chasing the little fat Lucifer seedlet we call our second dog down the street in my pajamas. And bare feet. With my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.
I learned two things this morning:
1. Evil apparently gives you the power to dislocate and relocate all your bones. Or liquefy them. Or something. It is the only explanation for how a 30 pound dog with a body like a wood barrel managed to squeeze herself through an opening smaller than the width of my hand.
2. The little shithead can run. I have NEVER seen this dog run in the almost 4 years we have had her. Everyone in my house has tried to make this dog run: me, my husband, the GOOD DOG. And we all get the same reaction. She sits down (or sometimes LAYS down), cocks her head to the side, and stares with this completely baffled expression, like she can't understand what we are doing or why anyone would even WANT to. There are several reasons her nickname is 'Lurch' and that is one of them (another reason is that when she wants to wake me up she will STARE intently at me. If that doesn't work she commences CPR, but you'd be surprised how often the intense stare of intensity haw woken me at 3 a.m., only to discover the dog hovering over me and staring). This morning, as she burst through the front door, flew off the porch, and bounded almost gracefully away you could almost hear the opening chords to Born Free underneath the chorus of my cursing and my husband shouting "No! Come back!" You can tell which one of us is more useful in a crisis. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure she answers to "Shit! Fuck! Damn it!" about as well as she does to her name.
Watching my husband chase our portly, clumsy hell dog through every yard in the neighborhood in his suit and tie and fancy shoes and not being able to catch her was almost funny enough to be worth it. But probably not worth all of the neighbors seeing my in my pajamas, foaming at the mouth from toothpaste.