Doggedly speaking — there are some days…

Some days, my brain is swimming in the shallow waters of the thought spectrum.

Today is one of those days.

If you’re a Star Trek fan, you’ll understand this one:   Life is like a Kobayashi Maru simulation, but no matter how much you cheat, you’ll never get out alive.

As I write this, my brain is functioning at the level of my dogs.  I just want someone to feed me, provide me with a comfy place to sleep and — let’s cut to the chase — treat me like I’m royalty.

I had a dog once who was endowed with so little brain matter I wondered how he could walk.  He literally chewed up half a couch one day. 

The resulting mess looked a lot like this:

At present over 300 pounds of dog meat is sprawled out all over the house; my bed, the hallway, the kitchen and what passes for living room furniture.   

Don’t believe me?  Do the math:

  • Rottie Mutt                                            80 pounds
  • Dingo Mutt                                            60 pounds
  • Found my prince, he was a dog         60 pounds
  • Fence-jumping olympic champion    40 pounds
  • Pretty Pittie                                            40 pounds
  • BullDane Mutt                                       40 pounds
  • Dad’s favorite                                        30 pounds

TOTAL                                                       350 pounds

Okay, so I suck at math.

I’ll get to the point: There are two chairs not yet chewed beyond recognition.  Both belong to the only 2 female dogs in the house:  One of them is Pretty Pittie’s throne, the other belongs to the BullDane.  

Pittie & Pitiful

Enough about my bad case of brain drain and the fact that I’m owned by 7 dogs…

…and this:

First they steal your heart. Then they steal your chairs

There’s a chocolate bar calling my name and I must obey its command to be eaten.  That’s just about the only thing in this house the dogs and cats can’t have.