“They claim he’s a spaniel, but he looks more like a collie.”
“Will he understand that he will be gamma to two bitches half his size?”
“He’ll learn.”
“Who is paying for him?”
“Me.”
“We are understaffed, dogwise, and need a collie to keep the riff-raff out of the neighborhood. Why are you even waking me? I’ll come home from work and say, 'Oh, another dog. Do you want part of my dinner? ‘Cuz the Little Girls are first in line, and you better grovel. I don’t care what your free name was; for now you are Fuckhead.’”
I mean, she woke me over this, FFS.
As long as you’re awake, can you post some pictures?
You see a thread, with one post - Running Coach. You think spam. I took a chance anyway.
I’m not entirely sure what just happened but I think you got a dog. Congrats? Also, pics.
please tell us more about the Awakening. What time was it? Did she call you at 3 p.m. and wake you up from your nap? Enquiring minds want to know.
You were never awakened; this is all part of a dream; next, you will be flying through the sky with no plane. . . to Jupiter. . . . . . where you will marry Scarlett Johansson, who looks like your mother but sounds like Peter Marshall hosting “Hollywood Squares.”
Texted Wife this afternoon, “Do we have a new dog, or did I dream that Thing 2 woke me up about it?”
“No new dog. Thisbe* gets furious if I’m even nice to another animal.”
“Good call. He didn’t sound like he’d take well to being bossed around by a dog a third his size.”
“She could easily kill him.”
“That ain’t no lie.”
Search for “Little Girls” and dropzone to get why we say that. Oldest’s ex has an American Bull Terrier who’s terrified of her, and she has a likeminded sister. They double-team.
I went to the shelter to adopt a third Chihuahua and came home with another cat to boot. Well, oldest son adopted him but he (the kitteh) comes out of my yearly discretionary money as far as food/litter/vet bills go since OS still lives at home.
Still not as funny as the time hubby told me “There’s a kitten outside meowing… you should feed him.”
He left for the evening and was surprised when I texted him a couple hours later “The dogs like the new kitty.” What was he thinking? I went from 20+ cats when the neighbors moved away and left their cats behind… to 3 when we moved. (I found homes for the other kitties… farmers like cats that get along.)
Had a stray cat like that once. Slave name was Shithead. Once he moved in Boots the Cat told him, clear as day, “This is my dinner. Sasha, dear, you may join me.” He never got fat.
Neither did his older sister, Idiot Girl. Her table manners nauseated her betters, so she had her own bowl in another room. Which she had to share with Shithead, though he usually got disgusted and ate her leftovers.
I love observing dominance games in supposedly domestic animals. They ain’t people.