It’s been said that the invention of the washing machine has had a bigger impact on people’s lives than the internet. As my dog attempted to jump onto the couch a piece of shit fell out of her butt. It’s a similar situation to when a person is naked during a strip search and asked by the officer to split their butt cheeks apart and cough hard. I say “attempted” because for whatever reason she chose the highest part of the couch to clear.
As I confronted her about the mishap she felt bad about what had just happened and went to her bed where she then peed all over. It’s been raining very hard these past few days and even though there’s a doggy door to the yard she is very reluctant to go outside in the rain or snow. When her bladder and bowels are full it only takes a slight move in emotion for the flood gates to release.
The washing machine is a blessed piece of technology yet I live the majority of my life wearing semi-clean clothes instead of thoroughly rinsed and spun material where I would be able to breathe in the nice scent and go aahhh. Why do I wait until I’m down to the last piece of underwear to think about doing laundry? Why do I put myself through frantically looking for an acceptable semi-clean shirt by doing sniff tests? That’s just the human condition.
It couldn’t be any easier to wash clothes. You gather them and huck them in the machine, pour some soap, spin the dial and pull, and walk away. Not a lot to ask in exchange for a continuing rotation of clean clothing. Any easier the clothing would have to self-clean.
I picked up the dog’s bed and did what I had just described. It will be dry by tomorrow morning and it will be like no one even wet the bed. Life is good.
A dog sitting on your lap is the same as having a naked hairy guy sit on your lap who doesn’t shower or ever wipe his ass. I probably have fecal matter all over my jeans.
The dog has 24/7 access to the yard through a doggy door but has a tendency to hold out until I take her for a walk. I know this because I can see the business almost coming out of her butt while we’re walking to the nearby park. I suspect she gets enjoyment seeing me pick up her mess. When someone is picking up your fresh poo all the time you know who is the boss. At the vet yesterday she decided to unload a hot turd in the middle of the reception area. Luckily, no one was there and it was a healthy turd that didn’t leave marks on the floor.
Over time she’s found ways to optimize her life around me. She probably brainstorms these ideas when she’s lounging in her bed for most of the day. What else does she have to do?
It’s the bonus they give you when you let them upsell you
Before I moved in here the dog was living a borderline rescue dog life. She was alone 14 hours of the day and in darkness for half of those hours during the winter months. The lowest point was when my mother was keeping her in the bathroom for the whole time while she was at work. She didn’t want her pooing or peeing on the carpet. I suppose if your bloodline is only one generation away from when they ate dogs then locking them in a bathroom might not seem so deplorable. Also, this somewhat recently purchased 35-year-old rancher might be seen by some people as a starter home but she sees it as her dream home. Living your first 50 years in poverty gives you a different perspective on everything.
The relationship I formed with the dog was gradual and unintentional. Slowly I began optimizing her lifestyle by changing her diet, going for walks, brushing her teeth daily and wiping the snot from her eyes multiple times throughout the day. I retrained her to go do her business outside in the yard instead of on those pee pads. Rather than being a pain in the ass, washing her feet after a walk or cleaning her butt has just become something I have to do.
I discovered there was a doggy door already installed that was hidden behind a shoe rack. It’s possible that it was used as a cat door in the past. It took some training to get her to use it but now she uses it like a pro. It’s probably enriched her life tenfold. I’m praying no raccoons will ever find their way through there.
For most of my life there was always a dog wherever I was living but I never had the intention to care for them. Somewhere along the line I decided I was going to with this one. Perhaps it has something to do with the stage of life I am in now or maybe I was trying to fill a void. It becomes a whole new experience though when you care for a dog instead of just owning one. I believe it can make you kinder person.
This is when I say, “look at you you’re all tucked in.”
Breakfast beside bed
At the local park I was walking my 8 pound dog when I saw a pit bull running around without an owner. I picked my dog up because she’s often an annoyance to other dogs when she barks in their faces. No manners this dog.
The pit bull did a couple laps around the park and then took off somewhere. I took my dog back home and decided I was going to hunt after the pit bull. It’s probably not what most people would advise doing but I had nothing better to do. Being bored is often the catalyst for the downfalls in life. You stare at the dead hooker on your bed and wished instead 3 hours earlier that you just kept watching CNN but nooo, you were bored.
I grabbed some dog treats, went back to the park and there it was again. As it came closer it became apparent that its head was too big for its body which made it more intimidating. It also kind of had that liquor store dog look. You know, the kind of dog a beggar in front of the liquor store would own.
I figured if I sat on the concrete bench table it would be harder for him to maul me. He wasn’t realizing I was throwing treats his way at first. He kind of just took my treats and walked away until I started scratching him. Once I stopped the free body massage though he took off again. I guess I should call the dog people. The dog people were closed but the recording gave me a phone number. That phone number went to a person who gave me a phone number. That phone number gave me a person who gave me a phone number(they only dealt with dead dogs aka roadkill). That phone number went to a machine and I left a message.
I guess it’s not really worth it to have someone on-call who would probably get paid $25 an hour to drive around looking for dogs and possibly not end up succeeding. You might as well take that $25 and buy 4 homeless people dinner.
I went home again and grabbed more treats and found him at the park again scaring all the other dog owners. The dog took off again from the park and got away from me. I hope he’ll be okay. I went to go buy ice cream after.
In order for my life to be good the dog’s health needs to be as well. I don’t have the tools or knowledge to do a thorough daily examination so I resort to monitoring her poo. It’s something to be thankful for when your dog pushes out a good looking turd.
When she pushes out a suspicious one I think about what she might have eaten and also consult with the internet. There’s a checklist for a healthy dog and human turd but it makes me wonder how can one conclude what a healthy turd should consist of. There’s apparently an ideal size, shape, colour and buoyancy but I don’t think there’s been a study done on producing healthy turds. Even if they have done one who was the control group? Did they take the healthiest dogs and humans, feed them what they thought was the healthiest diet, examine their poo, choose the most common turd produced and use that as the benchmark?
When your dog doesn’t push out a good looking turd in public it’s embarrassing especially when every other dog is pushing out champion defecation matter.
Some want to find a way to be closer to God. Some renew their wedding vows in hopes of rejuvenating their love for each other. I have become closer with my dog by almost killing her.
As her personal head chef I believe I made her sick by feeding her a rotten steak. At first glance the steak didn’t look too great but it passed my sniff test, and any leftover doubts I had was erased by the notion that cooking it would make it okay and that also, dogs have stronger stomachs than humans. Would I have eaten it? I really don’t think so.
The following days there was diarrhea then diarrhea and vomiting. Dr. Internet prescribed the vet if symptoms persisted after 24-48 hours. I thought to myself that I would never go see the doctor that soon if I had the same symptoms. But once she started becoming lethargic in the morning I really started to worry and also felt supremely guilty. I felt so guilty that I let the vet upsell me on x-rays for $173 that gave me nothing but a blurry glimpse of some of her insides. It was a low pressure sales pitch but it felt like an upsell. She said it would be the best route to do everything in one shot. After we found nothing from the x-rays there happened to be something else we could do…blood panel work. I declined and she said it was definitely okay that I just take her home with the meds and go from there. Grand total: $365. Funny enough, the 2 dogs after me were also in for diarrhea. Diarrhea might be a veterinarian’s brown bread and butter. It’s like non-violent drug offenses for privitized American prisons.
She’s not sick in this photo but it’s similar to how she looked like
I don’t regret the x-rays really because during the presentation she mentioned something about pancreatitis and how too much fatty foods would do it. I started thinking about all the times I fed the dog scraps of fried meat and the huge dog treats my mother would give her every morning. At least I walked away with some valuable information. I used to think that dogs couldn’t be that sensitive because they’re supposed to be descendants of wolves. If that theory is correct my dog must have evolved from a long line of mutated midget wolves.
The whole week I stayed by her side, trying to get her to eat, giving her medicine, watching if she drank water and anticipating her crap sessions. I think I mastered making meals that she likes. She’s picky but I’ve found that I can trick her into eating most things if I put a little bit of meat from pork neck bones.
It’s was a horrible feeling thinking that I caused another living creature several days of discomfort. She depends on me and I let her down because I was careless. Seeing her sad face and slow body movements was killing me. She appears to be better now. I won’t be fully convinced until another week because that’s just the way I am. I was so delighted to finally see a well-formed, dry stool. Sometimes the best things in life are shit.