Friday, February 19, 2010

Dog Night

I just couldn't deal with it tonight for some reason. Fear of embarrassment whipped through me just as sharply as the chilly breeze blowing down the hill that I was attempting to ascend. The closet specialist was STILL unloading his van and luckily I was able to make out his silhouette through the trees in the curve.

"Beautiful dog Miss!" he exclaimed earnestly as Heidi my Shepherd mix held her nose up in the air regally the first time I passed. "Thank You!" I responded with pride followed up with some bland neighborly prattle "Were just enjoying this "Summer" weather". I hate myself when I force pointless conversation for the sake of being overly congenial. Lame.

Second time around, now with Walter my Pit mix, he's still nice "Oh, you got another one...well heyyyy buddy" I stop briefly just because I know Walter has to crap and he will do it in the street if I don't get him to the vacant lot. They have their moment and we're off again.

Third time around and this time it's Lucy my Lab mix and Pepper my weiner schnitzel. I double up with them because of time constraints as 3 miles is about all I can fit in after dinner.This time however, I just know he's gonna be weird as I've found most people are. They see you got two and their like "Oh...well...that's o.k." but whenever they realize there's 4 of these bastards it's always odd looks and the friendly chit chat usually grinds to a halt. I assume they're thinking "What the fuck is wrong with this chick? Four? Really?"

Most of the time I just bite the bullet and deal with it. But this evening, I guess I just didn't want to disappoint this guy. Like he thought I was a normal neighbor that he could bullshit with while he unloaded his equipment. Incidentally I wondered to myself how many people are putting in high-end closets these days but apparently some people are. If he saw me with the other two he'd think I was crazy and I just didn't want it.

I had already been thinking it ever since I got home and Heidi had been working on one of the base boards in the hallway. How the fuck did I end up with 4 fucking dogs?!!! Four mutts that constantly follow me everywhere, that tear up my backyard, that chew on my walls, that stink up the joint and forever give me grief. HOW???

When Nick moved to Detroit to be with me, 8-ball his beloved Bassett-Terrier came with. I'd always had a dog when I was a kid but my Step-Dad, being the sweet heart that he was, always kept Snoopy chained up in the back and was NEVER shy about kicking the shit out of him. I wasn't used to having a dog in the house where they kind of become a member of the family and once 8-ball came into my life I tried to make up for every second of Snoopy's inadequate life.

I enjoyed it so much that after several months we adopted Lucy. BIG MISTAKE. She was an idiot from the start, dumb as dirt and 8-ball despised her. We tried to give her away a couple of times but the people would always give her back and question our friendship for trying to give them such a stupid dog in the first place. Eventually we gave up and kept her.

8-ball would go on to never accept it and went from being my most favorite Mr. Sexy Pants to chronic car shitter. Beyond that, he started to destroy the apartment every time we left. Digging up the carpet, chewing the closet unlike him. Nick wanted to ditch him but I refused. I was crazy about that fucking dog no matter how many pairs of my shoes he tore up. However, once he shat in my driver's seat and I wore it into to Hollywood Video, our love affair quickly ended and he was given to the nice family of a dude that Nick worked with.

Back down to just Lucy, she became a really great dog. I'm not sure if it was the fear of being given away or what but she became so easy that when we bought our first house we figured we should get her a buddy to play with in her new large backyard. Nick found Walter right away while perusing the local animal control website. He was in the "urgent" section as he would be gassed in 24 hours and we both fell in love with his face. All white with a brown circle around his cute. He was almost a year old and they had no idea where he came from but he had a large gash that was healing on his right leg. He was the only dog I saw in the pound that wasn't jumping and begging for someone to save them from certain death. He just seemed like he was above all that and had accepted his fate.

He was listed as a Lab mix but only when we took him for his first vet appointment were we informed that he was MOSTLY Pit-bull. Nick and I were both pretty unnerved because neither of us had any experience with the breed and all we ever heard were scary stories. The vet assured us there was nothing to be worried about as long as we neutered him and he got plenty of discipline and exercise. I was a total fat ass when we got Walter but the knowledge that he HAD to be walked so that he wouldn't kill us in our sleep was a helluva motivator. I'm kidding, he had an excellent attitude and Lucy and he got on fine right away and over the next 2 years, I would lose 120 pounds. By the way, he was named after the legendary Walter Sobchek.

Things were going great and then suddenly, with no preparation, I became pregnant. When it didn't work out, Nick and I took it in stride. It was a bit depressing but we figured since we weren't trying I was only 32, it'd happen again. But two years of actual trying proved to be fruitless. Eventually the tiny sadness
I had been harboring loomed into a clump of failure that morbidly tap danced over my head continuously. I finally began searching the pet ads on Craig's List for puppies.

Heidi was a super cute puff ball that had been abandoned in front of a rock quarry at 4 weeks old. The lady who found her asked for 50 bucks and we did the swap in the Pet Smart parking lot. I should have known what an incredible pain in the ass she was going to be when she sprayed orange doo-doo along my living room wall within the first 5 minutes of her being there.Far too smart for her own good she attempted and still attempts to dominate an 80 pound barrel of "Step Off" (Walter) every chance she gets. The bitch Will chew ANY thing and has mangled my screened in porch beyond belief.

Three dogs is enough, especially three big ones and NO-body needs anymore than that. It was actually too many. The perfect harmony that existed when we just had Lucy and Walter was ruined forever but we were able to correct some of Heidi's flaws, enough to where I didn't fantasize about killing her anymore. Then I got pregnant again. And it didn't work out....again. That time, well it's another story all together, but what I will say about that time....I went way down.

After months of Nick's constant attempts to cheer me up along with loyal friends and family, I began to snap out of it. During that era, some of my best moments were when I was walking with my dogs. I knew they needed me because Nick is far too fucking lazy (God love him) to walk them and so I would force myself to do it. We would walk, they wouldn't ask questions or tell me about their own troubles, just click along appreciating the day and all the sights and smells it had to offer. So simple and peaceful.

About a year ago, a friend was adopting a kitten for her daughter so I went to meet them at Pet Smart with absolutely no idea that I would be coming home with yet another son of'a bitchin' dog. Pepper looked like a slick little otter in her cage as I eased towards it, sticking my finger to her ear. Instantly she rolled over on her back knocking her water bowl over in the process. It seemed innocent enough when the volunteer asked that I hold her leash while they cleaned her cage. That was it. She just kept rolling over on her back with this sweet ass look. I forwarded a pic to Nick, he said yes and we became the moronic owners of 4 damn dogs. Pepper is a complete tard by the way. Possibly dumber than Lucy but she loves to be held like a baby for hours sooooo....

I find that generally I'm judged the most by people who have kids and have NO FUCKING IDEA what it's like not to be able to have them. Maybe if they did, they wouldn't be such self-righteous faggots. I think I wrote this to make myself understand why I put up with these fuckers and now I remember. As much shit as they cause, they always make me feel better and snap out of any depressing funks that may seep in. Hopefully I'll stop caring what folks think, remove my cone of shame and walk all four of the destructive bastards with my head up high someday. Or maybe that old bitch Lucy will finally buy the farm and I'll be back down to three. For a minute anyways. :)

LUCY-a.k.a The Goose, Sweety-sweets, Dumb Bitch


WALTER-a.k.a. Bubba-Tubba, Phineas Q. Butterfat, Mr. Butt Burgler


Heidi-a.k.a Fitzpatrick, Fitzwolf, FUCKER.


PEPPER-a.k.a. Pee-Pop



  1. hah ha hahahahaa 1 is fine for me but if you're cool with four you know what we say about them haters..."fuck 'em, they ain't paying the bills."

  2. Great story, but I always thought it was "eight is enough"

  3. Four dogs is waaaay to many for me. I'm fine with two, beyond that... well... just think of the good exercise you get walking them one at a time.

  4. One dog is too many for me. Sizzle the mutt is lovely... but what a handful!