Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Everybody's Fine.

I need to pee and I need chocolate. Not necessarily in that order. But three out of four dogs- no wait, make that two out of four dogs- no wait, make that one out of four dogs are lying down, not moving- no wait. We're back to two dogs lying down- but if I move from this spot, they will assuredly all get up and I do not want that. So here I will remain.

I should have thought of a pee jar. I should have not had that liter of water at work today. That's what I should have done. Or not done, I guess.

Holy shit. All four dogs are lying down. Well, that does it. I am certainly not moving now. Let's see how long my bladder can hold out because I am sure as hell not moving from this spot at this moment.

Oh- nope. Make that three out of four dogs lying down. The fourth, Max (not the Gator Girl, surprisingly enough) is currently stalking and staring from underneath the dining room table. He won't stay there long though. When I go to check on him in another minute or so, he will have moved, silently slipping through the room to stalk and stare at me from somewhere else.

I am flying solo today. Joe is at work and, after work, he is going to his French II class. The dogs and I are doing all right. Our morning routine is gelling nicely and I even got everyone exercised and before I went to work today.

I was scheduled for a crappy four hour mid day shift today but was sent home an hour early because I finished the shipment early. Actually, I could've finished the shipment even earlier but I dragged my feet to take time off the clock because I didn't know what I would do for the rest of my shift. It's our slow season.

So I came home just after two and started to work on the dogs.

Do you remember that brain teaser you did in high school? It was the one where you had a guy with a rowboat, a goat, a wolf and a sack of oats. The guy wanted to transport all three over to the other side of the river bank but he could only put one thing at a time in his little boat and so you had to figure out how he could do that because he couldn't leave the goat with the oats or the wolf with the goat lest things get eaten?

Well, that's me.

It's not the first time I've made that comparison-

(Oh. The neighbors had the audacity to back their car out of the driveway, causing a riot of barking from my ever vigilant big brave German Shepherd. Now no one is lying down. I am going to take advantage of this and go pee. And get some chocolate. Probably in that order.)

What was I saying?

Oh yeah. It's not the first time I've made that comparison. Things are a little more interesting now because in addition to the goat and wolf and oats, I'm also trying to get a small bear across the river.

I took Brewster and the Gator Girl out first because they can run together (and have a good time doing so) as long as the Gator Girl is carrying something in her mouth. But the Gator Girl, being mouthy and full of herself the way she is (particularly this week), was mouthy on the way down the stairs and so Brewster does not want to play with her.

(Oh, for crying out loud. If you wanted to pee, Big, you should have done so when I brought you outside to pee. Now you're going to have to suck it up and wait.)

I put the Gator Girl back in her crate and take out Max. I take Max and Brewster outside to play. Max really doesn't seem to play well with other dogs but either Brewster doesn't know that or doesn't care because she doesn't seem to mind having a Miniature Schnauzer hanging off her jowls.

(Everyone's lying down again. Even Creepy Stalker Schnauzer. It's a miracle! A miracle, I tell you!)

So I bring Max and Brewster back in the house and rearrange the baby gates so they are trapped in the combination living/dining room. Max, given his less than stellar track record (although he's not peed in the house yet this trip...knock on wood!), has restricted access to the house and besides, I need to bar the two from the front door so neither gets tagged by the Gator Girl when she comes back into the room.

My dogs were next. I got them out of their crates and take them outside. Brewster decided she didn't want to stay behind a baby gate where it was safe. She decided she would much rather jump over the gate and throw herself against the front door. That meant I had to

(Brewster, sweetheart, I would appreciate it if you were to stop chewing on my slippers. Especially with my feet inside of them.)

put my dogs into the car so I could get Brewster back behind the gate so I could bring all the dogs inside. I gave her a very stern lecture as I did so. I like to think it made an impact because she remained where she was supposed to be so I could

(Damn you, UPS. Why did you have to drive by my house?? Now no one is sleeping!)

get the other two dogs back inside. When everyone was calmed and settled (well, as calm and settled as the Gator Girl ever gets, that is), I merged the quartet. Big went to lie down on the stairs so he could keep his eye on those shifty neighbors. The Gator Girl and Max had a spat in the kitchen. Brewster knocked over a bowl of water trying to hide behind me.

(What is that sound? Brewster, are you peeing on my floor again? Please tell me you're not peeing on my floor again. Nope. No peeing. You're eating the rug instead. Soooo much better.)

After I broke up the fight and mopped up the water, Fat Cat had the misfortune of making an appearance. Brewster has never met a cat before she came to the house and I have two. Two cats who are probably at this moment, plotting some horrible form of vengeance against me. Needless to say, chaos ensued. I don't think I'll be seeing Fat Cat any time soon. But I think she did give me the finger as she made her escape into the laundry room. Joke's on her because the only way out of the laundry room is through the dog filled kitchen. Who's sorry now, Fat Cat?

So last night, after it took

(Gator Girl, get your face OUT of the cookie cupboard, now. I can see you in there.)

an entire hour to watch a thirty minute sitcom because of various dog related interruptions, Joe asked me if I still wanted to add more dogs to our family unit. He asks

(Brewster, you too need to get your face out of the cookie cupboard. I wouldn't let your cousin do it either, you know.)

this every time we dog sit. And every time, I smile and say Yes.

Then Joe calls me a liar.

Ah, to be young and in love.

Crap. Now all four are up again and are attempting to play. I feel a fight coming on. It's just sort of inevitable. Until next time, my faithful few.

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