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Sunday, December 07 2014

Please forgive me while I have a sexist meltdown.

There is a reason why Labradors end up in the pound. They are smart. Monkey smart.

I have one of these apes. Two actually, if you count the husband. At the moment they are both in the doghouse, but the dog is safer than the husband. It is said that women are better than men at multi-tasking. I'd like to offer up that women are also better at following a chain of future events like a line of falling dominoes. A woman's mind will have flashed forward with computer-like speed while the man is still wondering why we even care that the first domino fell.

Let me give you an example:

Last night I come home from work to find that husband has decided 11 pm is a good time to clean out his closet. He announces that he is "throwing stuff out!"  Since he is a borderline hoarder anyway, I'm always supportive of any attempt on his part to throw away blue jeans he's had since 1970, but it soon becomes apparent that he's not really throwing stuff out, he's merely reorganizing things in a search for a pistol he probably hasn't seen in four years and has just now remembered. His trash bag remains suspiciously empty on the floor. I note this, but being a veteran of that fight, I refrain from comment. After all, all I really want to do, is lay in bed, play on facebook, and then go to sleep.

After having worked night shift for 33 years, Other Half is wide awake. He is a squirrel on crack. And he has a partner, a monkey smart partner who is thrilled to death with every new discovery in the closet. Dillon is thrilled simply because Other Half is thrilled. They are hunting. The dog isn't sure what they are hunting, but the air of the hunt is afoot. Count him in.

And in short order the dog's anticipation is rewarded when Other Half pulls a dusty orange dog bumper off a shelf. He knocks some dust off it and Dillon glows with excitement. Gollum has just set eyes on his precious ring.

And this is the way everyone in the room processes the incident:

Other Half: "Oh look! I forgot we had this. Dillon would like it."
Dillon: "Ohhhhhhhhh! An orange thingee!"
Me: "Hmmm.... there is a reason why we put that bumper on a shelf. It was probably to hide it from the Labrador we haven't had since 2009. That's a lot of dust. Do we not ever dust there? Where does all that dust come from? He should play with Dillon and then put the toy up or the dog will kill the toy. The first thing to go will be that cord on the end of the bumper. Then he will rip the canvas. Then he'll choke on the cord or the canvas. Or get an impaction. That'll be at least another $1200. There will be orange canvas all over the bedroom when he shreds that toy. I wonder what's in the center of the toy. Other Half should supervise him when he plays with that toy. Where did all that dust come from?"
Lily: "If that stupid dog doesn't quit bouncing on the bed I will tear his ears off his head."

And true to form, Other Half gives Dillon the bumper and then goes back to searching for a pistol cleaning. I note the dog immediately begins to chew the cord. I point this out to Other Half. He scolds dog but does not take toy away.

What man says: "Dillon! Don't tear that toy up!"
What dog hears: "Dillon! Aeiamtyat yaeamtiye eitpewer!"

Man goes back to searching for gun while pretending he's cleaning. Dog goes back to disassembling the toy. I go back to playing on Facebook. Not my monkey, not my circus. I cannot help but note that dog is continuing to destroy toy. He has now punctured canvas and sand begins to spill onto bed. Who the %$#! puts sand in a dog toy?!

Dog is delighted. Woman is not. Sand is all over the sheets. Husband decides that NOW he should probably take toy from dog and clean sand off bed. Ya think?!

Flash forward to the next morning. Man leaves for work before the sun comes up. Large Brown Dog takes up his side of the bed. Woman notes dog is moving around and not sleeping. Woman's brain is too sleepy to process this infomation properly until she feels dog stand over her. A dumptruck load of sand drops into her face. Woman begins to screech much like a cat getting a bath. Border Collie attacks Bonehead Labrador and chases him to back of bed. Woman flips off covers. She spits sand out of her mouth and roars at man who is blissfully at work. Labrador blinks in confusion. He cannot quite understand why woman is not as thrilled as he is to greet the day. Border Collie brings the car keys and the phone number for Animal Control.

Woman screams at Labrador and snatches orange bumper from him. He is crushed. Woman then assures him that this is not his fault. Dog is blameless. Fault lies with Man-Child who did not properly secure toy in trash. Woman examines bed. Bed has enough sand in it to shoot a "Beach Day Barbie" ad. The only thing needed is a little plastic dune buggy. Woman now has sand in her eyes, her nose and her hair. Woman is reminded that she just had her hair colored and cannot wash all this sand out with water.

Woman does what women do - she phones Man in a rage.

Man finds this turn of events tremendously funny. He is, after all, many miles away from the blast zone. He is charmed that his dog located the toy, and stole it back. Woman wipes sand out of eyebrows and announces that since neither the dog, nor the toy, belong to her, she will just leave this mess for Man to clean up. Man happily agrees. He clearly has no understanding of just how much sand can be fit in a hunting dog's bumper toy, or perhaps he just has a better understanding of how angry a woman can become when she finds a load of sand dumped on her head just as the sun is rising. Woman properly disposes of toy and throws Dog outside.

Dog finds a rubber bucket and begins running laps around house with the bucket in his mouth.

Life is good for him. Note that a Labrador Retriever is the perfect Man-Child's dog, since they are both eternal children. As I watch Chocolate Thunder race around the yard shaking his prize at anyone who looks in his direction I am reminded that perhaps there is much we can learn from his happy innocence.

Live in the moment. Seize fun where you can find it. Make your own beach.

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 09:00 am   |  Permalink   |  4 Comments  |  Email
Just as well I have a spare key board. Current one is coffee snorted. Thanks for a great read
Posted by Liz (Vic Aust) on 12/07/2014 - 06:10 PM
That is too funny! I've been reading your blog for just a short while, and I really enjoy it as you have a wonderful way with words. Gotta love labs
Posted by Deb on 12/07/2014 - 06:52 PM
Awwww.... That is so sweet! Thank you!
Posted by Forensicfarmgirl on 12/07/2014 - 07:02 PM
I laughed so hard that I had to read this out loud to everyone in the house, then I had to share the link with all my dog friends. You really brightened my day and I was blinking sand out of my eyes all day.
Posted by Patty on 12/12/2014 - 03:24 PM

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