Happy Monday

My eldest “child,” Cole, is of the four-legged variety. I adopted him, as a single mother I might add, nearly ten years ago. He is the smartest dog, ever. And, I’m not just saying that because, as a dog owner, that’s what I’m supposed to say. If you read this blog, or know me in real life, you know I’m not a huge fan of saying what is expected versus what actually comes to mind…

So, Cole is a genius. He knows how to work the system. He knows the proper, polite way to beg garnering himself some tasty scraps. He is certain that the plaid bone matches his bed and when asked to retrieve that specific bone, he will do so. He knows, when I open the door and he’s been rolling in driveway debris, that my frown means he best hightail it back outside and shake that shit off. He knows if I get a blanket out to sit on the couch, I might be allowing him to come up. He can tell when I’m sad; he’ll sit by me and follow me around. If I put my gym shoes on he runs and hides because he doesn’t want to go for a walk. Or, if he’s feeling particularly energetic that day, he’ll run to the door. If I pack a bag, he becomes frantic because he thinks we’re going to grandma’s house. This dog speaks English and some Spanish because I used to have spare time and using that spare time to teach my dog to be bilingual seemed like a stellar idea. Oh, what I wouldn’t do to have that much leisure time again. Sigh.

The genius dog also has allergies. This means, he will spend hours upon hours upon hours licking. We’ve tried vitamins and Benadryl and baths with oatmeal soap but nothing really helps. It’s best to just let him have his way. So, the crazy animal lies around licking his paws and, well, his rectum, if nobody stops him. I draw the line at the rectum. That’s just disgusting. And, we aren’t talking about a simple lick. We are talking about an all out love affair complete with slurping. I realize there are many people on this planet who would be extremely happy if they had the ability to actually lick their own butthole. For clarification, I happen to NOT BE ONE OF THEM. In all caps, people, do not miss that.

So, this happy Monday (insert sarcasm here), at six in the morning, I am awoken to slurp, slurp, slurp. Now, this is not how I want to begin my week. While I am a stay-at-home mother of only one child, I still have needs. Sleep is very high on my list of needs. I do not wish to wake at that hour, to that noise. The events unfolded something like this:

Dog: Slurp, slurp, slurp.

Me: “Cole! That’s disgusting! Stop!”

Dog: Slightly raises and eyebrow. Continues licking.

Me:”Stop!”

Dog: Lick, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick, lick…

Me: Throw slipper at dog’s head.

Dog: Looks startled. Stops the licking.

Me: Sigh. Roll over. Try to go back to sleep.

Elapsed time: Three minutes.

Dog: Lick, lick, lick, lick, slurp, slurp, slurp.

Me: Screaming, “I’m going to kill you!”

Dog: Calls bluff and continues voracious tongue jacking.

Have I no authority in my home? Why isn’t he taking me seriously? The glue factory is not that far away! I would so do that! WTF? That was not how I wanted this week to begin. That’s a blatant lack of respect for me! I gave him life! Well, not technically but what if I had not saved him from the pound! Doesn’t he think of these things! Bastard.

Free to one good home: an extremely flexible dog.