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.
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.
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…………………..