Just Shoot Me!

All I want is a few minutes alone...is that too much to ask? I want a little time to complete a coherent thought so I can write my second installment of "On Rhetoric." My boys are spending the night out, my husband has been snoring for nearly 4 hours already, but am I alone? NO! Because another male invaded our home about a year ago in the form of a D-O-G. As if my daily life didn't provide enough opportunities for sanctification already!

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His food stinks. His breath stinks. His poop stinks. He, however, enjoys taking a whiff of it. He vomits in my house, then eats it right up again...I mean, does he really think that the rock will digest properly on the second go around? He doesn't brush his teeth. He doesn't take a bath. He doesn't clean up after himself. He doesn't carry his dirty dishes to the sink. For crying out loud, he can't even get his own bloody drink! He simply doesn't carry his weight around here...and speaking of weight...he's over (as the vet informed me, with great consternation.) Then he has the audacity to require "well-puppy" visits so this same smug vet can charge me $90 for vaccinations. Oh, and he's not so well afterall...he has allergies - yes, you heard me correctly - allergies...you know, the kind with sneezing, rashes and bouts of diarrhea. I don't just have a dog, I have a "special needs" dog! When we leave town, he requires "doggy-hotel-reservations" which cost nearly as much as "human-hotel-reservations." Only we humans don't get a report card with ours...I mean who wouldn't want to know that their "pwecious wittle doggie" participated in the bark festival, dreamt about us at night and socialized appropriately while we were away? (since when is brown-nosing socially appropriate?!)

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And on top of it all...HE FOLLOWS ME! I want to be alone. I just want to be alone...oh, now he's whining...excuse me while I let him out to defecate where my children play. Somebody just shoot me...and please, be accurate.