Hey, guess what? The English Patient is peeing all over my house!
I felt bad about calling Tabby to see if she could find someone else to take him but she would have been mad at me if I hadn’t. She said someone “requested is presence” (idiot) but she didn’t want to leave him with someone she didn’t know well because of his snakebitten condition.
I assured her that he was going to survive. I mean, if he’s well enough to mark his territory, he’s well enough to tough it out in a new house.
Places The English Patient has marked: litter box, outgoing mail pile, foam roller, Legos, the sun room, my watercolor pad, Lonny’s beer (!), the radiator, a box of stuff I’m donating, Blue’s bed, the trash can, the cabinets, the couch, and those are only the places I know about. Something had to be done.
Tabby thought that he was marking because he was fighting with The Dictator. She arranged for someone to pick up Rosemary’s Baby.
Me: What?! I want him to take The English Patient!
Tabby: I know, but I don’t want him to go that house, they have lots of kids.
Me: Put he’s the one who peeeeeeees!!!
Tabby: Hopefully he’ll stop with The Dictator out of the picture.
Me: I hope so.
Fingers crossed, right?
No dice. The little shit is still peeing everywhere so today I made this lovely garment for him.
It’s not 100% effective because he walks on his front legs and works the thing past his wiener but it was worth a try. Plus, he’s fun to dress up, which is why these dogs even exist despite their vicious personalities and bad attitudes.
Speaking of dress-up…
Shé stopped by and I
ordered asked her to put on sexy lingerie so I could take pictures of the, er, dog.
At least the house is quieter without The Dictator around. He’s yaptastic.
AND Casey found (stepped on) a turd behind the couch that looked too big to come out of The English Patient but too small to come out of Blue. So at least I have that going for me. The pooper is gone.
Let me just say that I walk those dogs all the fucking time. The Dictator went on 5 mile walks every morning with me and Blue. Both small dogs got walked at least every 20 minutes because the boys are psyched to have dogs small enough for them to handle on leash. So the only possible reason why they are shitting and pissing all over my house is because they hate me. Why? WHY?!
Time to cut the crap.
Do you know what irritates me? When it takes too long to make a margarita. Lonny picks up quality citrus juicers whenever he sees them. I’m giving this one to Harmy so I can get my margs on the double when I visit.
Stupid melasma cream that doesn’t work and spare buttons that came with the boys’ shirts. That’s the kind of thing I hold onto forever. Why do manufacturers even bother? I’d say 99% of the population can’t even sew a button on, much less find the inclination to do so to a child’s shirt that they’ll grow out of in less than six months. TRASH.
I’m throwing this tiny animal in the trash as a symbolic act of defiance.
Plastic to-go containers. RECYCLE.