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Ahhhhhhh. The good ole days. Look how calm she is. How little. How normal seeming.sigh.
That was then.
Dog man came today. He's a big guy. Well over 6 feet, carries a fair amount of poundage, you might even consider him formidable should you meet up with him in an alley some night. Dog man is a mobile groomer. The two smaller dogs are never particularly happy to see him. My dogs prefer to smell like roadkill and have a strong aversion to soap.
Today is Lucy's turn for a bath. (Dog man dreads Lucy's turn with a passion. Something about her knocking over everything in the van when he pulls out the blow dryer.) Now after puppy school (Lucy and I had to cheat to pass that course and get our diploma. But that's another story) the trainer at Petsmart recommended strongly that I get what is called a "gentle leader". The gentle leader is guaranteed to keep any dog healing nicely. Even the most robust of lungers are said to remain under control once the gentle leader is attached. I immediately fetched the thing so dog man could get her to the van and keep both his arms in the sockets. Seeing what I was up to, Lucy decided it was a good time for a game of chase the big retarded, slobbering, tail wagging, dog around the house. Round and round we went living room, dining room, kitchen, over and over. I flipped course and tried to catch her off guard but she took evasive action like a freakin pro. I finally caught her and straddling her like a pony began the lengthy process of getting the gentle leader around her snout and clipped to the back of her neck. I got it on pretty quickly and was patting myself on the back when I realized I only had the top have of her mouth in the damned thing. "Damn it to hell Lucy, keep your big mouth shut will you," I mumbled, straddling her again and struggling to get the thing on right.
I got it on just as dog man came to the door. Hearing the knock at the back door Lucy ran to answer all four feet sliding on the wood floor like a first time skater on the ice. She finally got her sea legs back and bolted just as I opened the door. Damned if she didn't end up plowing right into the poor guy knocking him backwards into the trash can.
They're out there now. In the van. She's happy as a clam and he looks worried.
Oh, hi there, Lamealso. I just came over to post to myself again. That'll make 4 whole posts! Oh damn! I'm so excited I could just. well, I don't even know what I might do but whatever, it's exciting.
Lemme see, 4....6....3. No no no. that's not right. K, I have to stop typin for just a sec cuz I need my fingers so I can count.
Ok. I got it. 6 more posts to myself and I'll be in DOUBLE DIGITS! HOT DAMN!
Oh man! I wish I hadn't put on my specs. Danged if she doesn't have a big ole skid mark down the center there. And not the good kind of skid either. That yellow seepy kind.
That would explain the flies.
You know HOneyhive, monistat makes a medicine for that. Course, sadly, the herpes are forever.
OH well. Long as you had fun.
Ahhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha! I don't know if it's lame but it's fun.
Whoever this chick (or dude) is he-she is at least a good time. Course when ya get all old and withered up you enjoy the simple things more.
I don't see a mullet. Sorry, red. But I'm totally missin this. Just looks like regular long red hair to me.
Hell no, I'm not 64. I'm 80 at least. I don't know. It's hard to count my fingers off that many times. You know, 10, 10, plus 10 more.
At 12/29/2005 5:21 PM, 
Tumbleweed
You guys are cracking me up! Wanna know something even funnier. I am at work and HH's picture is porn blocked. With your descriptions, I am getting a pretty good idea. I will have to go home soon and see what all the hub-bub was about. I love the slams, I wish I could have been here to play. Sorry HH, I would have been on Crabby's team and it would not have been pretty. I'll be back!
ah, c'mon Jane. You know a dead dog's the only kind I'm gonna be able to catch on a pic at my age. Besides, I didn't kill her. I found her like that.
Larry, thanks for stoppin by. I appreciated it.
Tumble, you gotta get some time off work so you can play more.
Doc, I have this mental image of you laughin your ass off now.
I still say this chick isn't a chick. It's a she-male. I'd bet my depends on it.
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Check your shoes before you leave.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HA HA HA HA HA! He just brought her back. She isn't even dry. Guress he gave up on the blow dryer. And he says, sternly, "You have got to get this dog under control." While he's talking, Lucy was, wagging furiously and untying his shoelace. ahhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha! Yeah, sure. I'll get right on it.