Monday, September 20, 2010

Defamation of Character

If Taffy could sue me in a court of law, she would do so for defamation of character. Of course I would turn around and countersue her for vandalization of personal property. SOO, I guess it's a good thing we are talking about a dog here and we are really not headed for a long legal battle.

The bottom line is this: the good name of Taffy the dog has been slandered (by me... see previous posts) and I am here to clear her name.

Have you ever heard the saying, If you love something, then set it free?

I decided to do that last week. I was tired of fighting Taffy into the garage. I was tired of the shards of wood lying around the garage. I was tired of the wet dog I would come home to when she was caged, especially since I still do not even know what the wetness was/is. (Let's not talk about that anymore.)

Last week, I went to a shopping area that sits really close to my house. I decided I could do what I needed to do and be back home in 20 minutes. In that 20 minutes, I would let the dog have free reign of the house.

The thing that has always concerned me the most about leaving her is my front door. I waited 6 years for that front door and right or wrong (probably wrong), it is the pride and joy of my house.

If that dog so much as left a finger nail scratch in that wood, I would pluck her nails out one by one with some pliers and then I would have to blow her to smithereens with a shotgun.

I loaded my shotgun and ran to the store.

Ok, ok!!!! I don't even have a shotgun and as much as I don't LOVE dogs, I could never hurt one.

So, I ran to the store. I came home, pulled in the driveway, and with knees so weak I could barely walk, I made it to the front door.

I opened the front door, turned around and thoroughly inspected the door... the inside of the door. There was nary a scratch!

I got back in the car and went to Target. Target makes me happy... just so you know.

I came back and all was well.

Taffy has been left unattended since that day... and I am happy to report.... all has been well.

Taffy truly is the perfect dog... now.

P.S. Paul's mom came over the other night and when she saw the dog she said, "Hey Carmel!"

I was like, "What'd you call her?"

She said, "Carmel."

And, I said, "Or Taffy."

I tell you between her and my dad.... licorice, carmel. Hahaha!

P.S. The bird lady walking by my house again. (See previous post.)

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Things I don't know what to say about.......

This hard-boiled egg for instance. It has boobs. And, I sat it in the lid of an apple juice bottle and took a picture of it. And, I laughed really hard at myself... for thinking the egg had boobs and for taking the picture and for posting it on Facebook. I have 500+ friends on Facebook and only two of those friends thought it was as funny as I did. I think I am cutting my friend list down today and just keeping those two friends. Something tells me a lot of those other people won't miss me.

I also don't know what to say about this lady.

She walks around my neighborhood carrying that black cage. Do you know what's in that cage?

A bird.

That lady walks her bird. There's something wrong with that entire picture. First of all... um... birds fly. How about putting that bird on a really long rope and letting him fly around as YOU walk through the neighborhood? I sure as heck think he'd prefer that as opposed to being walked around the neighborhood in a cage. Because... guess what else? The walk.... it's not doing him any good. HE'S NOT GETTING ANY EXERCISE!!!

What makes that lady think that bird wants to be walked? I bet that is the most frustrated bird in all the world. Not only is the bird being treated like a dog. He has to be walked around the neighborhood where he gets to see all the other birds flying around. I bet the other birds make fun of him too. Poor guy.

And, then there's my husband. He all of a sudden feels the need to embrace characters. It started with the Chick Fil A cow. He sent me the picture one day by phone.

He had written:
In the arms of another heifer as the caption of the picture. He had a moment of clarity before sending the message to me realizing that if he said he was in the arms of another heifer then he was in a round about way calling me a cow.

Something tells me I need to ramp up the affection level around here since he keeps having long embraces with things other than his wife.

And, wanting his picture taken with these things.

Then, there's that dog that lives in my house. The dog's name is Taffy. But, my dad couldn't remember the dog's name one day and fearing for the dog's safety knowing she has to live with me, he asked my mom, "How's Licorice?" He was dead serious too. Hahaha!!

Licorice, Taffy... whatever her name is... she's got issues. As if that wasn't obvious by my recent posts. One day Paul called and asked me if I'd come to the pool and pick her up. Now, why she was at the pool in the first place is beyond me, but I've stopped asking questions and so I drove to the pool to pick her up.

Shelby got in the car too and we were slowly exiting the pool because of the speed bumps. Taffy, being a dog, wanted to sit in my lap and stick her head out the window. Now, having a dog in my lap and driving is about as fun as getting a root canal... but, it's only about 1/2 mile home so I thought I could handle it for two minutes.

30 seconds into our 2 minute drive... Taffy jumps out the window. Now, why on God's green earth would she do that? I mean really! That dog! As I stopped the car to get out and get her, this lady pulls up beside me and she said, "OH!!! I am SOO GLAD that was a dog! I thought it was a kid!"

I can't decide what perplexed me more. The dog jumping out of the car or the lady thinking it was a kid.

Anyway, Taffy has continued to either A) get out of every enclosed space we put her in B) jump 4 feet into the air to squeeze her way through a small hole in the broken glass in the door that is in the garage but leads outside C) try to claw her way to the hole in the broken glass after we've put plywood over it or D) if she can't get out of the cage we've put her in, by the time she gets home she's soaking wet.

Why is she wet? What is the wetness? Slobber? Sweat? Urine? I'm not sure I want to know. And, since I have so much free time on my hands, I have to give her a bath. I am SOO glad we got a dog.

We went to an amusement park the other day and we knew we wouldn't get home until about 10 pm. We left Taffy in the garage. When we were leaving, Paul was talking to Taffy. He said, "Taffy, I fully expect you to have a bonfire going with all the wood chips you've made when we get home tonight."

I thought I was going to die!!

Here are ALL the cages she can get out of it. Yes, she can get out of every one of them.
The plywood she works on in her spare time.

It's hard to see the hole in the glass, but it's there.