Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Weird Things That Have Been in my Dog's Mouth Lately

first off, sorry that it has been so long since my last post. i could give you some sob story about how crazy my job has been, how tired i have been, blah, blah, blah. but let's be honest. the new season of Big Brother started last month and i can't tear myself away from the live feeds. apparently, watching Janelle color her roots at 12 midnight takes precedence over, well, everything else in my life. don't worry, i am fully aware of how pathetic that is, but the first step is admitting that your addiction has ruined other aspects of your life. but i ain't giving up the feeds. i am not a quitter.

anyway, back to the topic at hand.

my dog, Daphne, loves persimmons. that much we learned last year when she ate the 12,000 persimmons that fell from our tree.


there is not a fruit she will not eat. she is an equal opportunity fructose addict. except for the grapes in the pic. my mom did some research and found out grapes are lethal for dogs. who knew? so, no grapes for her. but all other fruits are fair game. a few weeks ago i was cutting up a pineapple and she damn near wrestled me to the ground for it. but i put up a good fight because a friend of mine smuggled that pineapple back from hawaii just for me. she can get her own law breaking friends.

i now have to eat my fruit locked away in a different room, otherwise she might pull out a stun gun and taser my ass to get at my watermelon. she's hardcore like that.

then there is the wood. god help me, the fucking wood. the dog will eat wood all day if we let her. hand to god, i have caught her chewing on the actual house more than once. the $1300 worth of bones, ropes, kongs, and balls that we have bought at PetCo are nothing to her. she wants lumber.

a few weeks ago, my mom trimmed the trees in our yard and left a lot the branches on the ground. now, before anyone accuses me of being a bitch for making my mom do the yardwork, please note that she likes it. and i run a lot of her errands for her, so it's a trade off. trust me, the woman has not seen the inside of a post office in about 10 years.

but, back to the branches. the dogs thought xmas had come early.


i can't wait until she figures it out and just starts gnawing directly on the trees themselves. how much wood would a pit/lab mix chuck if a lab/mix could chuck wood? we'll find out soon enough, i guess.

then there are the possums. yes, the fucking possums.

a few weeks ago, i let the dogs out for one last run at 10pm. while i was in the kitchen, i looked out the window and saw Daphne running in the yard with something in her mouth. the porch light was not on, so i couldn't see what she had. knowing she is a laundry thief, i thought she had stolen one of my sweaters off the washing machine. so, i went outside and called her to me. as she ran towards me, she activated the motion lights. the light comes blaring on and i see she has a live, medium sized possum in her mouth.


my scream was heard in 7 different time zones.

she had it by the torso, so the head and tail were hanging out of the sides of her mouth. interestingly enough, the possum was actually "playing possum." i was afraid that it would start fighting back, so i knew i had to get it away from her.

i ran in the house, grabbed a box and went out back again. i had to stand in front of her and use my high pitched, playful voice and ask her to drop the possum. choking back the screams, i stood out there, begging her, "drop the possum. give momma the possum."

miraculously, she did. the possum hit the ground, rallied for a moment and that is when i slammed the box down over it. then, i managed to get the dogs in their kennel. but i still had a possum in a box to deal with. i called my mom, who i knew was on her way home, to see how far away she was because i didn't think i could handle this by myself. she suggested i move the box to the far side of the yard, open the fence and shove it out that way. but i couldn't open the fence, so i had to wait for her to get home. me and my box o' possum. she finally got home and we managed to get the gate open and scooted the box across the yard and got it to the other side of fence.

after that, i opened a brand new bottle of Stoli and stuck a straw in it. yes, my dog has driven me to drink.

then 2 weeks ago, i was on the phone with my friend, Martha Jean, when i heard my mom screaming. i hung up, ran outside and saw the Daphne had captured another possum. how fucking stupid and slow are these animals? jesus christ, don't they talk amongst themselves? "hey, marty, stay away from the yard with the 2 dogs. the black and white one will catch your furry ass faster than you can say Possums Rule. seriously, dude, she's quick like that."

i'm thinking of buying the dog a muzzle. i can't take any more of this.