No Therapy Thursday today. I am sad. I hope one of you gets your life fucked right up by next week, because I feel like doling out some tough love and if I make up my own problems there are always animals getting bludgeoned to death. Then I have all of the asshole, bleeding heart motherfuckers yapping about how we should treat all of the living things as we would like to be treated ourselves.
Hey. Lighten up. These are all jokes, and you shouldn’t take them so seriously. I love animals, and I try as hard as I can to not beat the living shit out of them. Sometimes it’s so hard though. They make me angry with their stupidity and not doing what I tell them to. One time I had this ferret, and it kept biting me, so I punted it like a football. I think it crossed a couple of wires when it landed, because it walked like a sidewinder after that. I used to tease it all the time when it walked. I would be all like “What’s the matter, Sidewinder? Is your brain a little wonky from your accident?” I called him Sidewinder, on account of he walked all fucked up like, from when I kicked him. I think it’s funny to call it “his accident”, because we both know I did it on purpose. the shitty thing is, now he bites more than ever, and I have to hand feed him, so that sure doesn’t help.
I suppose I have to tell some of you that I’ve never had a ferret, or actually held a ferret for that matter. It was a joke, a bad joke. Put down the phone, Pam Anderson, PETA can’t do anything about my animal abuse jokes. Did you hear about the time I got into the fist fight with a spider monkey? No? That’s because I didn’t. I’m no monster. I did have a little incident with our new shelter rescue, Blue, though.
So, if anyone saw me today and wondered why I was wearing brown leather shoes, no socks, and shorts, it’s because of our new pooch. A couple of days ago, it was time to take him out for his midday walk in the woods, but when we got to the sidewalk there was a Dane walking by one way, and a guy walking two dogs the other way, but across the street. Blue went a little bit snaky, and I was doing everything I could to hang on to him.
He gets a little excited near other dogs or people, so I try to keep him in sight, but far enough away that he isn’t crazy. After the scene had settled down, I assessed the situation. Blue had either shit on my shoe, and then stepped on it, mashing it into the mesh on the toe, or he had stepped in a pile of dogshit in his excitement, and then promptly stepped on my foot. I want to believe the latter, because if he just shits everytime he gets wound up, we are in for a long old 10+ years of friendship. Whichever way it transpired, I now had a turd smushed into the top of my shoe, and he had the rest of the turd oozing out of his toes.
My next action was pretty dumb. I inhaled through my nose.
So now I’m trying to get the dog across the street to where we can finish our walk; I’m retching, and trying not to barf up my lunch. The grass was still wet from the rain, so I let him run around in it, hoping that it would clean his paw that was packed full of fecal matter. It did. After our little jaunt in the wilderness we went home, where he promptly took a nap, because obviously that much anxiety is going to make you tired, right? I then went to the sink, and began the daunting task of trying to separate the shit from the mesh. God damn it, New Balance, I sure wish I had a pair of Stan Smith’s right now. Those things cleaned up nice.
Another nice thing about Blue
iswas his ability to slip his collar. Alice(We can’t wait to find out what happens next in her adventures.) warned me that this was the case, but I was twice unprepared. The first time was around six in the morning, when I took him out for a pee on our second day of being a family. It was Sunday, so most people in Colborne were sleeping it off, and didn’t notice a medium sized hound sniffing all of their flower beds. I called him, but we didn’t even know each other yet, so that was pointless. I then figured that he would want to play, so I started running toward home. It worked! He came running after me, and I clipped him on, and tightened up the collar to the last notch.
Turns out that he can slip even the tight collars, because the second time was at night, and it was just as quick as a whip. I finally tracked him down to the lady across the street, and her two Irish Wolfhounds. He was trying to get through their fence to where they could all frolic and be fast friends. I got him there, and had a nice conversation with the interesting owner of the two dogs. It’s weird how you could live somewhere for over a year, and all it takes is your dog escaping to finally meet your neighbours.
We have since got him a proper collar that we had fitted and tested at
They are a great, locally-owned store in Cobourg, Ontario, that caters to the responsible pet owner. They have ethically made, high quality products that are produced as close to home as possible. I was amazed to find that they carry a lot of Canadian and American made products, so that we can at least keep a bit of cash on our continent. Their foods are top-of-the-line, and they also have grooming and chiropractic. Click on their logo above for more info on their excellent services and products. You’ll be surprised at how you can get great quality and great prices from a member of your community. Doesn’t Walmart, and China for that matter, have enough of our hard earned dough?