He's been limping lately, I don't know why, so I haven't been walking him as much. I had been walking him almost two miles every morning, but I wanted to rest his little leg. So I walked him this morning in an attempt to quell his hyperactivity and bad behavior, and the first thing he did when we got home was steel a sock and run into the backyard with it. Its really hard to hold out a treat and act all sweet and nice, saying "drop it!" when you're blood is boiling. I'm not Andersen Cooper, I can't afford to be replacing socks once a week. Nor do I want to go broke buying the dog stuffed animals so he can rip them apart in five minutes. I have some booby traps set up so that the next time he feels like jumping on a table, he will be startled by loud clanging. I'll get him in line if it kills us both.
This dog is costing me a fortune. I knew he would have to be groomed, but I had no idea what grooming costs. I'm here to tell you, it costs a lot. He needs his hair cut every 10 weeks or so, and it costs almost as much as my hair cuts and I get my hair cut twice a year. There's the food, the vet, the shots, the license, etc. He should shit solid gold.
When I'm in a really bad mood like this, the universe always mocks me in some way. I always get a little sign that my bad mood is meaningless and stupid and I should just get over myself. Right now, that sign is coming in the form of a monkey in Leila's room that is laughing all on its own. It must be under something, or shorting out because every few seconds since I started writing is goes, "boing!HAHAHAHA!" Alright, I get it.
I'm hungry. I'm going to make some yummy breakfast and hold off on killing the dog for a little while.
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