Sunday, February 5, 2012
She slobbers and spits. She leaves disemboweled and ripped stuffed animals strewn across the house. She will eat anything that slows down long enough for her to sink her little mini-chiclet teeth into it. She has worse gas than a bus full of nine-year-old boys leaving Taco Bell. She has an underbite that causes one tooth to stick out 24/7.
And she owns any dog who comes near. Take this picture. See Mutzie, aka Walter the Farting Dog, perched atop the couch in the comfy spot. If you could see a closeup, you would see a triumphant snaggle-toothed smile. Now, see Lucky the Amazing Wonderdawg, looking defeated and pissed. If you could see a closeup, you would see the red hot rage building in his beady little eyes.
That should be his spot.
It's not. He got owned and now it's simply the couch or the floor for him.
I used to have reservoirs just a few steps from my wee cottage's front door. Full of bears, squirrels, deer, foxes, and a few animals I ...