I'm a "big dog" person. I've never really had a small dog, but I just don't think I would like it. They seem so nervous and bitey and I would always be afraid of accidentally punting it across the floor while half-asleep on my way to wee in the wee hours. If you have a small dog, we can be friends... but I will always know in my heart that we are from two different worlds. If you don't like dogs at all, then something is seriously wrong with you. I bet your therapist already told you that, so I'll leave it alone.
So our dog is my new baby. Our 60 lb. bundle of fur is named Mudge. He is a German Shorthaired Pointer. A bird dog. To say he has a lot of energy is like saying Keith Richards enjoys a cocktail now and again. Mudge is a quivering, miniature thoroughbred on crack. The dog is loco, so every day I have to take him to the dog park to expend some of this craziness. We are lucky to have a beautiful park near our house dedicated just for dogs. It's a six acre fenced-in grassy retreat that includes a lake and shaded areas with benches. We are regulars at the dog park. When we walk through the gates, the other regulars greet us with a "Mudge!" It's very much like Cheers, where everybody knows your name, except we really only know each other by our dog's names. Also there is no bar, which is a damn shame.
Some of the other regulars include Yoda, a wirey little bat-eared mutt that lives up to his moniker and his crotchety owner. Yoda's dad is like my own personal Ed Asner and I love him. There is the standard poodle named Chatzy, the pit bull Maximus, the mutt Harley, the lab Briggs, and Sir Humps-a-lot. I don't know his real name, but he is a horny motherfucker. Literally. Mudge doesn't really play with any of them, because they are not birds. He is there to hunt birds. That's his job and he must do it. If there are no birds, he is hunting dragonflies.
And then there's Maintenance Dude. Yeah...me and Maintenance Dude-- we got a thing... goin' on. I see Maintenance Dude at least once a week. He comes around to ah, check the sprinklers, fix the fence and generally maintain the park. But he always has time to chat me up. Oh, he makes time- He enjoys my yoga pants (and who doesn't, really?) Yoga pants have magical powers, everybody knows that. I'm getting the idea that Maintenance Dude really believes our witty banter will someday lead to a letter in the Penthouse Forum. Poor sap.
Sometimes Current Legal Spouse comes with me to the dog park and it can get really awkward, y'all. I had to warn him last time. I said, "There's Maintenance Dude-- promise me you won't fight him!" Current Legal Spouse leans in and says something chivalrous like, "Ha! He can have you!" while rolling his eyes so far back in his head he looks like he's stroking-out. "Maintenance Dude doesn't have a clue about high maintenance wife!" he sputters. Because he doesn't understand our love. Then my maintenance dude strolls by us, giving a nod. He'll pretend to mess with the sprinkler head and leave with a wounded look. I like to imagine he goes back to his truck and eats his bologna sandwich while listening to Adele. I call to him, "I'm no good for you, Maintenance Dude!" Current Legal Spouse calls after him, too- "Please for the love of God, take her!" Uh huh. Jealousy-- it's so unbecoming.
Current Legal Spouse also thinks I "baby" Mudge too much. "He's not even a hunting dog anymore!" he laments. And to that I say, "Could you close the door? We are cold," because Mudge and I were taking a bubble bath at the time. Again, I chalk it up to the hub's jealousy, because nobody is taking bubble baths with him and scrubbing his muddy undercarriage.
Anyway I figure this is a lot easier than having another baby. And I don't baby him anyway! I mean I don't dress him up or paint his nails and stuff. He is just a dog, I know that.
We treat him like a dog, not a person and he knows his place. He does NOT sleep in our bed. Gross.
Ok, so he is basically my third child. Not a real child, but a very important member of our family nonetheless. And he seems to prefer me, so he's obviously very smart. He follows me around and seems genuinely interested in my daily activities. Yes, a lot of times I do smell like bacon but even when I don't, he still likes me best. Ask him- he'll tell you.
"Don't you, Mudgie?" "You love mama best? Yes! yes ..woo do, mama's wittle stinky face is sooo cute!" Ahem...
It's time for Mudge's nap- you'll have to go now.
 |
| Bird? Bird? Bird? |
Some of the other regulars include Yoda, a wirey little bat-eared mutt that lives up to his moniker and his crotchety owner. Yoda's dad is like my own personal Ed Asner and I love him. There is the standard poodle named Chatzy, the pit bull Maximus, the mutt Harley, the lab Briggs, and Sir Humps-a-lot. I don't know his real name, but he is a horny motherfucker. Literally. Mudge doesn't really play with any of them, because they are not birds. He is there to hunt birds. That's his job and he must do it. If there are no birds, he is hunting dragonflies.
And then there's Maintenance Dude. Yeah...me and Maintenance Dude-- we got a thing... goin' on. I see Maintenance Dude at least once a week. He comes around to ah, check the sprinklers, fix the fence and generally maintain the park. But he always has time to chat me up. Oh, he makes time- He enjoys my yoga pants (and who doesn't, really?) Yoga pants have magical powers, everybody knows that. I'm getting the idea that Maintenance Dude really believes our witty banter will someday lead to a letter in the Penthouse Forum. Poor sap.
Sometimes Current Legal Spouse comes with me to the dog park and it can get really awkward, y'all. I had to warn him last time. I said, "There's Maintenance Dude-- promise me you won't fight him!" Current Legal Spouse leans in and says something chivalrous like, "Ha! He can have you!" while rolling his eyes so far back in his head he looks like he's stroking-out. "Maintenance Dude doesn't have a clue about high maintenance wife!" he sputters. Because he doesn't understand our love. Then my maintenance dude strolls by us, giving a nod. He'll pretend to mess with the sprinkler head and leave with a wounded look. I like to imagine he goes back to his truck and eats his bologna sandwich while listening to Adele. I call to him, "I'm no good for you, Maintenance Dude!" Current Legal Spouse calls after him, too- "Please for the love of God, take her!" Uh huh. Jealousy-- it's so unbecoming.
Current Legal Spouse also thinks I "baby" Mudge too much. "He's not even a hunting dog anymore!" he laments. And to that I say, "Could you close the door? We are cold," because Mudge and I were taking a bubble bath at the time. Again, I chalk it up to the hub's jealousy, because nobody is taking bubble baths with him and scrubbing his muddy undercarriage.
 |
| "Ahhm... jour wife? Chee is ah, ruining thees dog." |
Anyway I figure this is a lot easier than having another baby. And I don't baby him anyway! I mean I don't dress him up or paint his nails and stuff. He is just a dog, I know that.
 |
| That is not me. |
We treat him like a dog, not a person and he knows his place. He does NOT sleep in our bed. Gross.
 |
| That is not our bed. |
Ok, so he is basically my third child. Not a real child, but a very important member of our family nonetheless. And he seems to prefer me, so he's obviously very smart. He follows me around and seems genuinely interested in my daily activities. Yes, a lot of times I do smell like bacon but even when I don't, he still likes me best. Ask him- he'll tell you.
"Don't you, Mudgie?" "You love mama best? Yes! yes ..woo do, mama's wittle stinky face is sooo cute!" Ahem...
It's time for Mudge's nap- you'll have to go now.
