It is kind of cloudy today and the temperatures are low enough that even though sweat will be part of the equation, I didn't think I'd be par boiling in my own juices. It's the thought that counts, right?
Gypsy started to gambol about barking in a high pitched yip guaranteed to peel the lining out of your eardrums and the eardrums of people two or three blocks away. She loves to go out for a walk. It's the most thrilling part of your average dog day for her. Pooping and peeing on every vacant lot and byway is sort of a doggie newspaper headline and she is determined not to miss any publication deadlines just because I had leg cramps during the night. My suffering means NOTHING to her.
I honestly wonder if she has reserve holding tanks for the poop and pee since she manages to go multiple times during our walk and it's never just a few drops or plops along the way. It's more like cups and handfuls... not that I'm anxious to measure or hold any... but you get the idea.
Holy crapola dog!!!! How can ANY dog have that much poop and pee?? Is this some breed specific trait or is it true of all dogs? I think I need a governmental research grant to examine the output levels by breed for a comparison study.
We walk about a quarter mile and Gypsy looks back at me over her left shoulder. She is smiling her evil smile. I knew she would make me pay for going out on a cloudy morning.
It's an opportunity for Gypsy to show the other dogs chained up in 'jail' in either their play yards behind fences or indoors behind spit covered windows that she (neener neener!) got to go outside while they have to stay inside and just hope that someone will turn on the vacuum cleaner for them to attack.
Sort of a nasty little game of "watch how I'm in charge" begins where she will lunge forward, backward, or sideways to impress the 'inmates' with her complete freedom to maul, maim and murder her erstwhile owner.
Foolish mortals we. Our delusion of pet ownership is an invitation for our canid companions to teach us humility in plays. We are not in charge and going for a walk reinforces that lesson.
So, she's in charge. Well, good for her. I almost hit the ground several times as Gypsy zigged and zagged her way toward her ultimate goal of worldwide domination for the furry Assassins club. Her speed changed randomly from a pitiful walk to a full on gallop then back to a leisurely lope. The idea is to confuse the enemy and make them ripe for the pickings.
I have seen her evil smile several times today. I believe it was the broadest it has ever been. Her ears even curled up in a decidedly wicked fashion to resemble nothing so much as a pair of fur covered devil horns.
Uncertain as to why she is trying to murder the hand that feeds her (along with the rest of the body), I bring her home after today's appointed route is completed.
Did I mention we did two miles today? Yep. We were about 1/2 mile into the adventure of murderous intent when it started to rain.
Far from spoiling the evil intentions of the canid minion, I believe the rain simply washed away the veneer of domestication that prevents her from taking full advantage of her opportunities for conquest on a daily basis.
When the pee and poop factory was finally empty and we were within a scant couple of blocks of the house, Princess Pig was 'exhausted' from her ordeal and turned to me with that expression of mingled innocence and sheer cunning that says "Carry Me!"
Uh, I don't think so, you reject from the mafia. Carry your own cunning evil on your own malevolent legs! I know what you have in mind. A nice nap today followed by trampling me and stealing my covers tonight in the bed.
STOP SMILING AT ME THAT WAY!!!
The Hounds of the Baskervilles have nothing on this dog.
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