That’s not a really accurate scorecard. It should really read Amber -10 Pets 100.
Do you ever get the feeling your pets get together to plot things against you?
This morning while taking in the morning sunshine and having some coffee, Rocco ran amuck the backyard (as usual). Just as I thought, wow, this is going to be a great day, I hear a scuffle and a big crack of my teracotta pot and plant smashing into the concrete. Thanks Rocco. Love you too.
Then comes time to do a quick once over before I head off to work (and before Brandon gets home from San Antonio). I need to vacuum, so I put Rocco in the garage (because he’s all wet from swimming in the pool mind you) and I go about my business. The hair around our house from the cats is friggin ridiculous. I’m huffing and puffing my vacuum around the first floor and I look up to see the two cats giving me *that* look.
You know the one, "yeah bitch, clean that up."
So, now it’s time to take a shower. I go to look for Rocco who has proceeded to remove 2 cushions from the couch and is running with one is mouth. Our command for Rocco to drop things from his mouth is to "give." So here I am repeating in a very calm and sweet voice, "Rocco. Give…Give. Good boy…Give." When really in my head I’m thinking, "you don’t give, you take, take, take my patience away. Now drop the damn pillow." He quickly complies because he’s used to this game.
So, up the stairs we go. I take one step into the shower and instantly I can see him on top of the bed with another throw pillow in his mouth (sigh). I get out, repeat "give" for what seems like the thousandth time this week, and he happily drops it and trots into the shower and sits down (big sigh now). Guess we’re taking a shower now.
Our shower doesn’t last very long. He wants out. We get out, I dry him off while I’m dripping wet because you see, when he gets out of the shower he is WILD. He loves being wet. It seems to be exhilirating for him. If I don’t towel him off first, he’ll be down the stairs and ice skating all over the tile floor chasing the cats. I get him decently dry and he is off down the hallway. Straight for the office.
Then, it gets quiet.
I peer around the corner and, of course, he has Brandon’s very very important signed Terry Bradshaw and Singleterry football in his mouth that he conveniently grabbed from one of the top shelves of the bookcase.
Yeah, right. So I’m off down the stairs (naked, mind you), and within 5 feet of him, he happily drops it.
What a good dog.