Life During Wartime……

I am having a day people. I’ve decided to go undercover, as I know way too many people in this town.  Why, this morning, whilst hiking with my golden, I came out of the clearing to a suspiciously familiar sight-why, that’s the dude who I met a year ago, who wanted to know if my sister (cough, cough) would breed her new pit-bull.  Of course, he called a year later, and just recently at that.

I will ignore him and proceed, ever so slowly, to the jeep.

“Hey, Vintage Rose lady, it’s me, John.”  Seriously???????  Jesus mighty I was in no mood for this conversation, or any conversation to be blunt.  And then it happened:

His pit-bull, Thor (NO, I AM NOT KIDDING) began running towards Jesse at warp speed.  In a slow motion nightmare that I keep reliving, Thor jumped onto my dog, and he meant business.  His owner oblivious to the mayhem, I wasn’t sure if I should karate chop or mace his dog.  Unhesitatingly, I jumped in between the pit and my baby.  Let’s just say I am surprised no one was hurt.  And by that I mean the clown and his dog.

Speaking of animals, I have one word and one word only at this point in time.

Fleas

Dear Abba:

I wanted to thank you for all you are doing in my life right now.  Things are good down here, who am I to complain, but I have been praying about this unholy war with the creepiest of crawlies, and I know we don’t have to pray the same prayer twice, but could you please, PLEASE do something about the situation?  I have spread diatomaceous earth within every square inch of my abode.  I have given Frontline to and shaved the asses of my cats, twice.  Jesse is now sporting a little blue flea collar, and I pretty much hate myself for making him.

Signed.

Pulling My Hair Out in Pennsylvania, aka, your loving servant, Michele.

Yikes, gotta run.  I am on my way to Walmart for more flea protection.  There I will sing the song of my people, and pick up the cross I was meant to bear.

Cumbia, my Lord, Cumbia…………………..

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s