There are so many things I'd like to write about. I'd like to rant about the people complaining and hating on Kirk Cameron for criticizing homosexuality and gay marriage on Peirs Morgan's show. He said, ”Marriage is almost as old as dirt, and it was defined in the garden between Adam and Eve. One man, one woman for life till death do you part, so I would never attempt to try to redefine marriage. And I don’t think anyone else should either,” Cameron said. “So do I support the idea of gay marriage? No, I don’t.” So GLAAD is slamming him and friends and fans are distancing themselves and calling him a hater. Of course this is his opinion. Piers knew this would be his position. Why is anyone surprised. Kirk hasn't been double minded on this issue. And he's not a hater. Conservative christianity is not a hate group.
I'd like to write about Rush Limbaugh and Sandra Fluke and the "slut" sh*tstorm. What a surprise. Rush said the American tax payer does not want to pay for her birth control. The government should not subsidize her sex life. Rush said, "What does that make her? It makes her a slut, right? It makes her a prostitute. She wants to be paid to have sex. She's having so much sex she can't afford contraception. She wants you and me and the taxpayers to pay her to have sex." I know it is utterly surprising that Rush Limbaugh made an inflammatory and provocative remark on his own show. I'm stunned. *not*
I won't write about any of that. I'm going to write about my dog. I have a dog. His name is Chet. He is very old in dog-years, but I don't know what dog-years are so I'll just say he is 15 years old. He is a Jack Russell Terrier. He is trying to kill me. He's been trying to kill me for the last 14 and a half years. So far, I've been smart enough to out wit him and avoid death. I have been injured, but not fatally. He has a few favorite methods. The methods mostly fall into the category of stealth operatives. His favorite is to lay on the third step down on the staircase. He usually times it for laundry day when I am toting baskets of laundry up and down the stairs. He prefers to lay on the third step from the top of the staircase just before I am ready to carry the basket of dirty clothes down the stairs to the laundry room. He's a clever one, that Chet. Fortunately, I'm still smarter than a dog, but I'm afraid my day may be coming.
Another of his modus operandi is to stay very close to my feet while I am cooking. He prefers to be nearby during times I am chopping with a very sharp knife or carrying a pan of boiling water to the sink. He is crafty and manages to get underfoot just at the moment I am walking the knife or boiling water to the kitchen sink. He's been known to bunch the small throw rug in front of the sink into an alternate obstacle for tripping. This way he can get me coming and going.
When he was a younger dog he made his attempts for my demise by pulling me into traffic during walks. He usually waited until we were near the end of our walk and he knew I was tired. He would take his opportunity and YANK me into oncoming traffic. I survived. I was injured a few times, but not fatally. Now that he is up there in dog-years he has developed a new method to try to kill me. He has developed the ability to emit the stinkiest gases known to man. They are released from both ends of his body, sometime simultaneously. It is truly his most effective weapon thus far. I sometimes wonder if I should take him to a vet because this odor is effective in clearing a room of any living creature in three seconds flat. Chet has a, seemingly, unending amount of these malodorous airs about himself. And, it seems, he can produce them at will. This odor can cause gagging and watery eyes. Seriously, the government could use it as a WMD if they could bottle it.
I have a dog. I never really wanted a dog. My son and husband REALLY wanted a dog. So, I have a dog. I know I won't have my dog for much longer. Sometimes, when he is sleeping, and he sleeps almost ALL the time, I wonder if he's still alive. I know I'll be sad when his time comes. I'll be sad, but I'll be safer. :)
31. Sunny days
32. Spring-like weather
33. Farm fresh veggies
34. Essential oil diffuser for my office
35. Pink grapefruit essential oil
36. Pink grapefruits
I'd like to write about Rush Limbaugh and Sandra Fluke and the "slut" sh*tstorm. What a surprise. Rush said the American tax payer does not want to pay for her birth control. The government should not subsidize her sex life. Rush said, "What does that make her? It makes her a slut, right? It makes her a prostitute. She wants to be paid to have sex. She's having so much sex she can't afford contraception. She wants you and me and the taxpayers to pay her to have sex." I know it is utterly surprising that Rush Limbaugh made an inflammatory and provocative remark on his own show. I'm stunned. *not*
I won't write about any of that. I'm going to write about my dog. I have a dog. His name is Chet. He is very old in dog-years, but I don't know what dog-years are so I'll just say he is 15 years old. He is a Jack Russell Terrier. He is trying to kill me. He's been trying to kill me for the last 14 and a half years. So far, I've been smart enough to out wit him and avoid death. I have been injured, but not fatally. He has a few favorite methods. The methods mostly fall into the category of stealth operatives. His favorite is to lay on the third step down on the staircase. He usually times it for laundry day when I am toting baskets of laundry up and down the stairs. He prefers to lay on the third step from the top of the staircase just before I am ready to carry the basket of dirty clothes down the stairs to the laundry room. He's a clever one, that Chet. Fortunately, I'm still smarter than a dog, but I'm afraid my day may be coming.
Another of his modus operandi is to stay very close to my feet while I am cooking. He prefers to be nearby during times I am chopping with a very sharp knife or carrying a pan of boiling water to the sink. He is crafty and manages to get underfoot just at the moment I am walking the knife or boiling water to the kitchen sink. He's been known to bunch the small throw rug in front of the sink into an alternate obstacle for tripping. This way he can get me coming and going.
When he was a younger dog he made his attempts for my demise by pulling me into traffic during walks. He usually waited until we were near the end of our walk and he knew I was tired. He would take his opportunity and YANK me into oncoming traffic. I survived. I was injured a few times, but not fatally. Now that he is up there in dog-years he has developed a new method to try to kill me. He has developed the ability to emit the stinkiest gases known to man. They are released from both ends of his body, sometime simultaneously. It is truly his most effective weapon thus far. I sometimes wonder if I should take him to a vet because this odor is effective in clearing a room of any living creature in three seconds flat. Chet has a, seemingly, unending amount of these malodorous airs about himself. And, it seems, he can produce them at will. This odor can cause gagging and watery eyes. Seriously, the government could use it as a WMD if they could bottle it.
I have a dog. I never really wanted a dog. My son and husband REALLY wanted a dog. So, I have a dog. I know I won't have my dog for much longer. Sometimes, when he is sleeping, and he sleeps almost ALL the time, I wonder if he's still alive. I know I'll be sad when his time comes. I'll be sad, but I'll be safer. :)
31. Sunny days
32. Spring-like weather
33. Farm fresh veggies
34. Essential oil diffuser for my office
35. Pink grapefruit essential oil
36. Pink grapefruits
 |
| Don't let this cute face fool you |
rush is a scum bag...whether i agree with his opinion on the birth control he is still a scum bag...and i would love for all his advertisers to pull out....
ReplyDeleteand mr cameron i am sure is getting some wonderful publicity for his new movie from this...i think we do more damage by fighting this one honestly....
hope you survive the dog...smiles.
That is a cute dog, but I can see his murderous ways in that gaze. :)
ReplyDeleteYour dog reminds me of a dog I loved and lost, once. She was a beagle/terrier mix.
ReplyDeleteyou are so funny. and wonderful. i love your posts. and your heart. thank you so much for praying friend... it means the world to me.
ReplyDeleteYour dog is so funny! He reminds me of my dog! My dog is 14 years old. My husband says that's like 90 human years? By reading your post I'm realizing that my dog has been trying to kill me! And I didn't even know it! She does the same things your dog does when I'm cooking and also the airs from both ends, those are toxic!
ReplyDeleteThat cute little angel dog? I just can't believe it!
ReplyDeleteThat face makes me think he's not trying to kill you! :) But I get it, my dog is always under my feet too. She's a German Shepherd so you'd think that would make it harder, but no somehow she always manages to be in my way. I like the story of you with your laundry basket. Those things are totally dangerous aren't they? Happy weekend Miss Happy Girl!
ReplyDeleteI agree with you about Kirk Cameron and Rush, and am laughing about your treacherous little dog!
ReplyDeleteThanks for all of your kind encouragement friend.
lol. I love my pets but my Boxer is almost always under my feet. When I walk up the stairs she is right beside me. If I stop on the stairs she stops. She is like a shadow, a dangerous shadow. I totally agree with you about Kirk and Rush too. Sometimes I get so angry at the way this country has turned out I wanna rant and rave all day. But like you I choose to distract myself with my pets and my own funny situations. :o) Glad you are feeling better friend!
ReplyDeleteHa ha ... good read.
ReplyDeleteJust be one step ahead and he will never catch you :-)
My boys want a dog. Unfortunately, we've already had collies who could almost out run cars and trucks visiting our out-in-the-country neighborhood. But they want a dog - and are waiting for the teen to bring his grades into "PuppyPower" grade requirements - and I can see one day, I will be in your shoes with a dog not mine trying to do me in. Sigh! I don't think I could handle a stinky dog - we almost renamed a cat "Gasey Cat" - and you know in a house of boys that would have stuck! Maybe you should just stop doing laundry!!!!
ReplyDeleteHave an awesome week!!!