Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Scrappy and Me

So last night must have been raccoon smackdown in my neighborhood, because the dog would not shut up. I wanted to strangle him. Now, don't get me wrong. I love me some Scrappy Doo. God knows I put up with a lot from that dog. I have loved him through all of it--from "accidents" on the floor to tearing up the garbage all over the house some kind of trash frenzy, so no notes on how politically incorrect it is for me to say I want to kill me some wiener dog, because if I were really gonna kill him, I would have done so LONG before now.

And I can also hear people clucking, saying I should have trained the dog. Trust me, we tried. Hims is a dachshund. A stubborn, underground, pissing, crapping, sleeping hound in miniature. A hound that resisted training. We put him in the kennel at night now so we don't have to worry about his strageically-placed-right-where-we step-on-our-way-to-the-bathroom-accidents. So he barked batshit crazy at the coons from his kennel.

Anyhoo. THAT is why I am blogging at 3:30 am when I should be ASLEEP.

The dog didn't care that I have to finish up a presentation today. The dog didn't care that I have to make a cake for book club this evening, or that I have to go to work, write a chapter or put a roast on. All he knew was there was a RUCKUS out front and, dammit, someone should let him out so he could TAKE CARE OF IT!

Stoopid dog.

Starbucks doesn't open until 5:30 so I can't even go and work. Someone is going to be Grumpy McGrump today.

4 comments:

PJ Hoover said...

Grumpy McGrump. Funny. And there is something nice about being awake at that wee hour though. Like it's a secret time no one else knows about :)

Lexi said...

LOL! Have I told you lately how much I love coming here?

Annie said...

I know your dog...he fits in well with your family...

rofl!

Brooke Taylor said...

There is a dachshund in my advanced obedience class--he should not be in advanced. He doesn't do anything right and he's thoroughly disruptive (but cute). His name is Egg Roll. He runs marathons--like seriously 10-25 miles before coming to class (with those tiny stub legs that's like 200 miles) and he's still wired. I think he's got that runner's high thing.

We had to swap dogs once and my mom got him for 3 minutes-all she wanted him to do was sit--he did it once and she said she was sweating. She's not so critical of her dog now, LOL.

My aunt just got one--I don't think she knows what she's in for, LOL.

Good luck with your school visit!!