I'm not feeling too peachy today, not just due to the lack of sleep, but my ankles are like California redwoods, my nose is bleeding (it's allergies.. this fresh mountain air is killing me) Aunt Flo is playing hide and seek, I'm swelled up like like the blue girl from Willie Wonka and my hair looks like goose caca.
Thank God it's Friday.
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I got stuck in Ayla's doghouse this morning. Well.. not stuck.. exactly.
She's not been eating, she's teething and her gums are swollen. They hurt me just to look at them. I ran out of the super squishy chewy puppy food, so she's had to eat the regular crunchy food for a day or two until I can get to Wally World (I'm a bad furbaby mommy) and she's barely eaten. Last night she did the high pitched puppy bark, whined, flipped and flopped in her sleep, I felt so bad for her.
This morning I remembered that I had some canned dog food in the cabinet, a freebie of a high dollar brand I scored with a coupon. I don't feed canned dog food for a variety of reasons, but if I get a free can, I take it.
I carried the canned food out to her doghouse, Sammy and Yoda trailing behind me in hopes that they'd get a taste and reached inside for her bowl. It's a big house T.A. built from a kit for Ozzy, but we lost him before he ever got to try it out. Of course Ayla had pushed the bowl way back in the corner where I couldn't reach, though I tried, already dressed for work and in hopes of not getting dirty.
I had already opened the can, because sometimes I'm not too bright, and Ayla having gotten a big whiff of it, lost her damn fool mind and tried to take me down.
She is not a small dog. Huskies are bred to pull things in sub zero temperatures and Pyrenees are bred to protect flocks of goats and sheep from wolves, bears and like.. nuclear attack and the apocalypse and crap. So yeah.. you can see my dilemma.
Luckily, the doghouse roof opens up, giving easy access to the inside. Once I got my big butt wallered back out of the front, I stood and opened the roof, leaned in and tried to dump the canned food into her bowl. It would have been helpful if it had been loosely packed, stew-like food, but it was not.
A spoon would have been helpful as well.
Using the lid as a make-shift scoop, I dug the firmly packed food from its container, being careful that I didn't lop off a finger or slit my wrist.
I like to live dangerously.
I didn't notice Ayla had moved around behind me. She was overcome with beefy-aroma-induced temporary insanity and lost all sense of judgement, leading her to pounce on my butt, knocking the roof of the doghouse loose, forcing it to close swiftly on my backside, pushing me off balance and damned near face first into the bowl of dog food.
I'm pretty sure I offended every Bible thumping neighbor within a 20 mile radius with the stream of wordy-dirties that spewed forth from my mouth.
But then? I imagined how I must look, my butt hiked up in the air like a cat in heat, my entire upper half seemingly being eaten by the angry house. Then I got the giggles, which further complicated my attempts to escape.
I swear to (insert religious figure or spiritual being of your choice) all three dogs were lined up laughing at me. I'm just thankful Ma didn't happen to peek out the door. She would have called 911 or at least Aunt Moses to come over with her camera.
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I reckon I should stop fartin' around on the innerwebs and get to work. Bossman isn't in as chipper a mood as he was earlier this week and I've got crap piled up all over the place. I may work through lunch, it depends on whether I can get a mooburger from the campground store.
Ya'll be sure and stop by this weekend. One of The Amazon's college buddies has made it big as a reality show celebrity! We'll take a look at her new show.
In the meantime, ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.