Friday, December 16, 2011

Who wants a dog?

Yesterday I told you I was pissed. I was so pissed I couldn’t even feel pissed because there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t rewind time.

You all remember this post, right? This is where I got all inspired by Pinterest to start jazzing up my house. Well, I did and I have yet to show you the hallway, but not even 2 months of a fresh clean feel of a new look to our front door and it is ruined.

Dale so kindly awoke me from my nap I was taking on the couch before bed with a cat in his hand to show me this catastrophe.

Stunned, shocked, heartbroken, raged. Those are just a few things I felt but the one that got me was hopeless. I am well aware that there are worse things than hard work going to waste but I was just sick. It’s horrible. Worse than it ever was before.  The kid's cute though.

How could a cat do that much damage? Wait, maybe it wasn’t the cat. Dale suggested maybe it was our jaws of life, resilient dog, Marcus. What an ass. I went to the garage, his kingdom, and took a look at his hawk like claws. Surely they were worn with that much damage. It was possible, but I couldn’t prove it even with all of my detective training. The thing that gave him away though was his quivering lip and jaw as I got closer. That really said it all. Guilty as charged. I just walked away as much as I wanted to throw his brown, hobbling, bob tailed butt in the cold for the night. Most likely he would have just gone and finished what he started. Sometimes just a look is all it takes. The disappointment he could see in my eyes could really turn him around, right?! Have him begging for forgiveness, no?

I used to cut pictures of the cutest kittens and puppies out of magazines my grandma would give me and make little collages with them. “Someday I will be able to have as many animals as I want.” I would dream. I didn’t even care how many times my tiger striped Coonie would piss on my bean bag chair or my pile of dirty clothes I left on my floor. I would still snuggle him as tight and as long as I could.

I have come to hate animals and it is going to be a cold day in hell before I get another one. (That is just me talking big because I’m pissed. It is highly likely the boys will get a dog after Marcus is gone that stays outside and that Wyatt will feed and take care of. I would melt at the sight of a fluffy puppy and cave in an instant if I knew one needed rescued.) My animal loving days are over. O.V.E.R! Coonie, Bud, and Lacy are turning in their graves. What good pets they were. R.I.P, guys! Oh, and you too, Katie Did.

The destruction feels like such a setback in the progress that we’ve made. That led me to being ready for new trim, paint, and doors in the hallway, the entry way, the living room, and the kitchen. So much so that I started looking for people to get me estimates on the cost. Now I’m all in a frenzy over wanting it all done now and at a price I won't choke over. Distracted to say the least. Looks like it is going to be a busy vacation and Christmas break for me and Dale unless he can talk me down from the ledge. I’m sure as soon as I see the price tag I will tuck my tail and run (pun intended); patting myself on the back at such a good effort for thinking so highly of my abilities in DIY projects thoughts.


  1. Oh, that sucks!! Looks like something my puppy would do. When my dog Roxi (she passed away earlier this year) was a puppy, she chewed giant holes in the drywall and pulled out the insulation. Our house was 2 years old. I flipped. Then she pulled up the carpet and ate the padding. She also chewed window sills and banisters. So I know how you feel...MAD! Hang in there.

  2. Just so you know, I feel ya. My dog? Ate a recliner. Down to the springs. We got home to him laying in the mayhem. he's destroyed more things than I care to admit. Just can't face it all because in the end, that flippin dog loves us unconditionally. dammit.



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