And I don't EVEN LIKE DOGS

Man oh man, am I ever living in dog hell.

I am from the country. In the country, animals live outside, people live inside and horses live in the barn.

So how did things go so wrong for me in the last five weeks? It all started with Lucy. Stephen and Lucy are home from A & M for the summer. Lucy is a precious little beagle. She barely sheds at all. She sleeps in a precious little crate and most importantly, she will go back to College Station at the end of the summer. We will miss her and her precious little self but she will go home.

Okay, we had Maggie (Beautiful Australian shepherd) for 14 years. Rob and sons went to the pound one day and came home with a puppy. I was newly pregnant and did not know it and they were all confused. They thought that if they brought a puppy home, I would let them keep the puppy in the house. However, Maggie was the queen of the back yard. She died in May. It was just terrible. I never thought that I would even miss her, but I was just so sad. It was during that time that my family started to take advantage of my grief.

A few years ago I came home from work and Michael, Stephen and Rob had gone to the pound and brought home ANOTHER DOG. Blah, blah, blah about how Maggie the alpha dog needed a brother....blah, blah, blah. Buddy is his name. He was obviously an inside dog in his first family. I was mortified. Another stinkin" dog? He is a cross between a german shepherd and some other long haired dog. He is dumb as rocks and darling because of it.

In March, our friend Nate and his dog (one year old Rottweiler Louie) moved in. Louie had also been an inside dog. I should have seen what was coming but did not. Louie is so big and he peed on our plants outside so much that he killed em dead. DEAD. So up went the electric fence. Maggie said " I am so done with this and died." Buddy was now the old man in the yard and spent as much time as possible hiding from Louie. Lucy then joined us and chased Louie all over the back yard. Finally, Louie barked so much at night that Rob could not take it anymore (I stuck earplugs in my ears to wait him out) and Louie went to live with another friend. So then it was just Buddy and Lucy. Of course you know what is coming now....Lucy is an indoor dog so can't Buddy be?

I actually do have a soft heart and I gave it my best shot.

BUT when you walk in the front door and are in the first two days of a two month or longer remodel and the dog hair goes "whoosh" up in the air when you open the door it must be over. So Rob takes Buddy to the vet who says that he uses some brush called a "furminator" to get rid of the fur on his dog. Now let me get this straight "a vet shaves his dog?" Whatever. Those vets walk in the door and are like pigpen in Charlie Brown only it is not dirt it is puffs of dog and or cat hair...... of course we spend like $50 bucks for the furminator and Stephen and Rob start shaving poor Buddy. Well, not technically shaving but almost.

and then there is the smell. Imagine a big dog who sweats and then comes in the house and "puffs" that sweaty dog smell all over. Dog Hell for sure.

So the guys have been grooming poor Buddy outside with the Furminator and washing him with the oatmeal shampoo to get the smell out. Heck, they even start brushing Buddy's teeth with a toothbrush and toothpaste. Poor Buddy. Rob gets a crate for him and Buddy hates it. I am in Dog Hell and now Buddy is, too. I don't even want to tell Stephen and Rob that as soon as they finish brushing Buddy's teeth he promptly runs away and licks places on himself that are just plain icky. Of course he does, he is a DOG! They are not supposed to get their teeth brushed with people toothpaste you crazy idiots.

It is, however, just about to get worse.

Enter Mocha. Mocha is the dog from across the street. He is about 90 and has arthritis. His family is gone on vacation. In his house there is the meanest cat ever born. Michael pet sits them both. The cat gets back in the back of the closet and hisses and growls. We used to "try" with that devilcat but now Michael just throws the toys back there and leaves food for the cat and runs out the door. BUT, do we leave Mocha in there by himself with the devil cat? At Christmas Mocha came for a few sleepover nights and did fine. He is totally an inside dog. I was okay with that then.

Yesterday not so much. Mile high stacked stuff due to the remodel.... Buddy and Lucy and Mocha. Puffing dog hair everywhere. Mocha goes home for a while and Michael goes over to get him. I go out the front and see them headed back. Michael announces that Mocha had a "terrible" poop. I instruct him to take him to the back yard. He does.

I go to bed. At 3:30 I start hearing doors slam and the bathtub go on and racket like you would not believe. Rob, of course, sleeps right through it. I go out and find Michael running around with paper towels. He says "Mocha crapped on the floor but I cleaned it up and am now going to take a bath with bleach in it to be sure I don't get MRSA again." Oh my goodness was it ever bad. It seems that Michael "forgot about Mocha's "problem" and put Mocha and Buddy (think stinking puffy dog hair) in his room and he went to sleep. He woke up because Mocha was licking his feet. Never mind that I could hear him barking for what seemed like ten minutes and assumed he was outside.....so then he gets up and finds a Mocha mess ON HIS CARPET.

I did not do anything like you would expect me to do.

I turn around and go back to bed and don't even look. I can not deal with any more dog drama as long as I live.

Michael then gets clean and goes to the fireplace room brings Mocha back in and barracades him in there with him on the tile floor and falls asleep on the sofa. (see photo of head under pillow, feet sticking out and body laying on guitar) Thankfully Mocha seems to be okay then and he does not feed him any more or who knows what I would have found this morning. So now we will have to pull the carpet up in his room and wait four weeks to get it replaced when we had planned to do so. Mocha and Buddy are sitting by the back door waiting patiently to come in. Panting from the heat. Not a chance.

And I "don't even like dogs".......