Daisy Maisy Dixie Grace at ten.
Not crazy, but here are the little beasties who try to push me off the bed at night. Snoring their butts off…
My sister-in-law sleeps with three Rottweilers in her bed and I have trouble with a couple of small dogs!! LOL!
Anyway, I think I mentioned Guy Who Yells at Me in a previous post. He started over a year ago while walking past my postage stamp house/yard with his little black and white dog. My dogs started barking (of course!) and I walked over to Bree and hugged her to calm her down and stop her running around, trampling the little dogs.
The Guy then went berserk, screaming “You’d better not be hurting that dog!! You better not!”. I was taken aback, to say the least, and replied “Sir, not that it’s any of your business, but I’d never hurt this dog”.
Well, he kept it up for another few minutes, accusing me of hitting her and all sorts of things! I was gobsmacked.
And every time he walked that mutt past the house and we were out there, he would go crazy on my ass. EVERY TIME. Once he yelled “Are you hitting that dog? You better not be hitting that dog!” To which I replied “Sir, I am 6 feet away from her; just how crazy are you?”
It got so bad I started hiding in the house and then one day I ran inside to hide because he’d come around the corner and Arthur saw me. He stepped outside and told the Guy “Stop yelling at my wife or I’ll call the police.”
And that was it. I didn’t see him again. Guess he chose another route. Huzzah!
Enter Woman Who Yells at Me. You can’t make this shit up!
Bree will be 11 tomorrow (I know!!) but when she was younger I used to bathe her outside in the summer. And we used to play with the hose, her trying to catch the water. Most of us with dogs have.
Well, the Woman happened by with her dog one day a couple of weeks ago while I was outside with the dogs.. and I had a hose in my hand. She lost her mind and started screaming “You better not be spraying that dog in the head!!”
I thought: Is this Guy Who Yells at Me’s wife???
Better prepared for the insanity, I just smiled and walked away… Until she caught me on a bad day. The inspector had shown up (for the fifth time) but once again the contractor was a no-show. I had just fed the dogs and took them out. I always go with them, they’re never alone.
There she was, across the street, watching me. Bree and the little dogs went nuts and because Bree is a deep chested breed and I don’t want her to torsion and bloat, I picked up the hose. She thought she was getting a bath and shut up and retreated to the back yard. That should have been that, but the Woman had to open her mouth, didn’t she? I don’t know what she was screaming because I was louder. And it was profane. Haven’t seen her since.
Crazy people are everywhere… but lately it seems like I’m seeing more than my share…
Sounds like there’s a song in there somewhere… “Daisy by the trashcans, oh Daisy by the cans!”
LOL! One must find humor when and where one can…
Bree barks while Daisy suns.
It’s election day here in the United States, but Daisy doesn’t know. And as her person I feel safe in telling you that she wouldn’t care if she did.
The Dachshund’s vocation (and obsession, if we’re being honest) as huntress sort of rejects any political thought but as her hobbies include barking at strangers and lying pink-belly-up in the sun, you might be inclined to wonder if she’s had aspirations.
Well, no. That’s one of the things I love about her; the uncomplicated, primitive nature of her being eschews anything civilized.
Bree… well, she thinks too much… so, probably. And we all know that Badger wants to rule the world…
As for me, I’m more of a Daisy today. I don’t care. Not just because I’ve been sick and feel like ick… but because it doesn’t matter. I’ve come to believe that anyone running for president these days must be mentally ill. One wants your guns and one wants a wall and it’s all control. Gun control and immigration control and meanwhile, we’re importing jihadists who want to blow us up because of some guy name Mo. It’s unreal and surreal.
Going back into Daisy mode now. At least until I drag my ass across the street to vote.
Not together, obviously. If so, the dead bird would be hanging limply from the dog’s jaws. Daisy would be very proud of herself and we would naturally have to congratulate her for the magnificent kill. Dachshund life, you know.
The dove just kept walking toward me, as if daring the dogs or I to make a move. I had to take a picture of such a bold bird.
It’s boring right now. But I think boring is good. My main functions these days are clearing out closets and watching Midsummer Murders. All good.
I didn’t renew my WP premium package, so changes… they are a’comin. Hey, a hundred bucks is… just that. And needed for other things now.