Choppy Evens the Score

So, last week, I detailed my problems with Sarah teaching me to act like a monkey. Unfortunately, Sarah got me on that one.

But I have discovered a way to deal with this - I can just ignore Sarah!



I realized that Sarah knows that I can catch a frisbee just fine. So, when Sarah wants me to catch, I can just ignore her, like I did in the video! When other people are around, I can impress them with my mad frisbee catching skills. It's a fabulous plan - piss Sarah off by not catching, yet show off for other people, so that they can see how smart I am. It's a perfect plan!

Backyard Fun With Holes

Among my few joys in life is the backyard of my house. Other than the squirrels, it's pretty awesome. One big reason it's awesome? Sarah (the asshole) very rarely goes out there.

Now, because she is rarely back there, this means I can pretty much get away with anything in the backyard. And you know what one of my fave things to do back there is? Dig holes.

One of my wonderful digging creations. Hopefully, I will find someone else to take care of me at the bottom of this hole.

Now, I am always hopeful that I will dig deep enough to get to China (or at least Illinois), where I will find someone to take care of me. So far, no good on that one.

However, there are other good things about digging holes. As one of my goals in life is to make Sarah's life as miserable as possible, I have to live with whatever results from this goal. Namely, this means I worry that Sarah will one day get so angry with me that she will stop feeding me. As I enjoy eating a lot, this would be very, very bad. So, to deal with that potentiality, I have to hoard whatever treats Sarah gives me.

Now, I can't just leave the treats lying around the house, or Sarah might start to think that I don't like treats and shouldn't get any more. That would be a horrible turn of events. Treats are a shining beacon of good in my otherwise joyless life.

So, to hide my treats, I just bury them in the backyard, where Sarah won't find them. It's actually quite a good plan - Sarah has so far never, ever found even one of my buried treasures.

But you know the best thing about digging holes? On the few occasions where Sarah does go in the backyard, seeing my holes everywhere really pisses her off. Which is, obviously, awesome.

The Outdoors Is a Toilet, it Doesn't Need One

So, Sarah (the asshole) has been up to her asshole antics again lately. Just this morning, she came across an invention that she seems to think would be a great improvement to the backyard:



Seriously? Because it's so fucking hard to walk the twenty feet into the house to flush it down the toilet? If Sarah wants to throw her money down the toilet, I can think of many better ways to do so. I mean, hell, I could just eat it. The money would still end up in the shitter that way, and at least I'd get the satisfaction of tearing it up first.

On the plus side, I did enjoy the part of the video where the dude stepped in the pile of dog crap. That was pretty fucking cool.

Back to My Craptastic Life

Sarah (the asshole) has returned from her trip to Notre Dame, and, unsurprisingly, my life has returned to craptastic-ness.

While Sarah was gone, I managed to get the carpet in the back room looking much better - lots of muddy paw prints, chewed up sticks ground into the carpet, etc. Definitely an improvement over its formerly cleanly state. However, it only took Sarah about ten seconds after getting home to pull out the vacuum cleaner and start vacuuming. Even worse, once she was done with that, she got out the steam cleaner and ran that. Seriously, asshole, do you know how long it takes me to get the carpet in that sort of order? It's going to take hours of backyard digging in the mud and searching for sticks to get it back in shape. I have better things to do with my life, especially because I'm pretty sure Sarah has a new pair of shoes somewhere that I have not even gotten close to.

But then, in a horrible turn of events, she took me to the vet AGAIN. How many fucking times a month do I need to go to the vet? It's not like I'm sick or anything. And, of course after getting a shot (probably done solely to piss me off, because I've already had about a million shots and I'm only four and a half months old), the vet went in with his shit scooper to get a sample. Seriously, what does he think he's going to find up there? It's not like I recently started shitting diamonds.

And you know what else? Puppy training is canceled tonight, so I don't even get that one small pleasure out of life. I'm sure Sarah is highly fucking amused by how craptastic my life is right now. Asshole.