Village Idiot

Hello incredibly neglected site. Yes, it's been a very long time. In fact, the last time I was here, I wrote about this; the flu. My very loyal pup was curled up on me, as usual, no doubt wishing it away.

Now it's my turn. My idiot is ill. Oh, let's clearify something here for the record, shall we. He is NOT allowed on the couch. NOT NOT NOT. He waits until I'm in a subconcious state, and sneaks up ever so quietly. Marisa takes the pics when she comes in from school. He's such a bad boy. A very loyal, bad boy.

On Sunday, when Frank and I were at the grocery, he decided to buy him a chewy. A very loooong chewy. I kid you not, it was as long as my arm. Let's just measure my arm for arguments sake - ok, 2 feet! Yeah, the dog, appropriately dubbed, The Idiot, from here on as he'll be known, received a two foot long chewy on Sunday. For the record. On each end of the chewy, were nubs the size of well, Frank's fists. We're not talking a small bone, here.

We expected this, as Frank said, would "keep him busy for a while." This is the same village Idiot, who when we would give both he and our (my beloved Shepard) Luke each a chewy, would take both bones, lay on top of Luke's and chew his incessantly until it was gone, and then finish off Luke's.

The idea of "keep him busy," wasn't going to happen. As he suffers from a little thing called, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Hmmmm, looking at Frank and I, one can only assume where he gets it.

As of Sunday evening, he had completely devoured one entire fist from the chewy. Devour, as in no longer existing. He ate it. He is disgusting. Now when I say, he ate it, let me explain the way the Idiot eats the chewy. Oh the sound effects......

Once he has removed the incredibly gooey fist, he is now chewing and swallowing with his eyes closed. I am now reminded of a cow. Why you ask? Cud. He stands up to barf the chewy back up, only to chew it again. Oh, yes, Frank - you were right, this indeed IS keeping him busy. "Gaagggg, gaggggg, gaaggggg, ralph" up comes the chewy. And he begins to chew it again. Eyes closed and he is ecstatic once again.

I on the other hand, have my nose in my shirt. My eyes are watering, and I hear the gagging again; only it is my own this time. I am. totally. disgusted. Now running out of the room and gagging, and hearing Frank laughing at me, yelling at Idiot at the same time. I hate this dog sometimes.

Monday morning, as I wake up, I notice that Idiot is terribly eager to get out the door. "Hmmm, must be he needs to go out," I'm thinking to myself. he's usually a pretty late sleeper. I usually need to force him out of the bedroom. As I'm headed to the stairway, ready to put one foot down the first step, the Idiot flies by me so fast, he hits my leg as I'm ready to go down and knocks me down the first two steps. I land on my butt.

He's not headed for the door, but for his chewy. He's bouncing from front to back haunches, over-excited. I. am pissed. Sitting hard, mind you, on the step, in the dark of the stairs, watching him jump-for-joy as he throws his chewy up in the air, pushes it across the floor as it lands. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Stupid dog.

I hadn't really kept much of an eye on him throughout the day; and in retrospect, I should have. It was a busy day. Because of the snow and ice storm, the kids were delayed two hours from school and I had a few appointments I needed to take care of.

By dinnertime, we noticed that he had only one fist left to the chewy. He had eaten the rest. No doubt, gagging and barfing his way through it. Only to chew it again.

Tuesday, it was gone. and Idiot wasn't feeling so good. Not only did he barf up chewy, he just barfed. All over his blanket. On Tuesday. And then lastnight - WHILE WE ATE DINNER. indeed, I do hate this dog. This, he did on his blanket in the living room, which is next to our diningroom TABLE.

Luckily for the rest of us, that is Frank's job - cleaning up dog barf. I, on the other hand, made sure it went through the wash. Twice. (yes, in an eco-friendly way)

There is nothing more pleasurable for Idiot, than when he sees his blankets come up from the wash. It is almost impossible to fold them. Thankfully for his prong collar, I am able to keep him in a "stay" position - and why of course - I AM calm and submissive at that moment. He can barely contain himself.

Today, he is resting quite comfortably.

A very happy Idiot, indeed. Next week when the kids are off from school, guess what the smelly thing is going to get? A very much needed BATH!

Don't look at me like that, you stink! You are getting a bath. WITH shampoo AND soap AND yes, bubbles! You will smell better or you may not come back in.

Go back to sleep. Idiot.