Dog

Okay, so I should probably explain why I said I hated my dog. It's because I hate my dog. Not really, I guess. We had just had a bad night. He sleeps in the 1/2 bath off of the kitchen. Usually I put him in there and he just sleeps until Ethan lets him outside in the morning. But on the night in question that's not how it happened. He barked relentlessly for about 30 minutes at 3:00 in the morning. Finally I put him in his outside crate and went back to bed. It is really cold outside right now, and I hear rumors of bear cubs in the area, but I figured whatever happened to him served him right. I couldn't get back to sleep though, so I was pretty tired and cranky in the morning. I really wanted to take him to the pound, but instead I decided to vent to cyberspace. While I was online, I researched shock collars. He hasn't done it again, so I still have a dog. And I've been told that several other neighborhood dogs barked that night. Maybe there was some very very high-pitched noise that humans can't hear. Maybe the aliens were landing. I don't really care as long as it doesn't become a regular occurance.

My dog is not the only one determined to make my life difficult. Today Brenna took my kitchen scissors and cut my shoelaces into little bitty pieces. Now all I have are Church shoes and sandals. Thanks, kid. At least she's creative.