Chicago Dog

I meant to post this earlier, but things have been hectic around here - I have been trying to make sure Sarah doesn't forget any of my important toys for my vacation at the kennel, which is quite hard, as she seems intent on packing only ones that I don't really like (you see, Sarah doesn't want to take what she calls my "old and ratty" toys to the kennel, but they are "old and ratty" for a reason - I love them and therefore play with them).

Anyway, before all this packing got started, Sarah actually did something pretty cool (for her, at least) - she took me to Chicago! Now, I go there sometimes, because it's where my cousin Izzy lives. But she lives away from the downtown part of the city. This time, I actually went downtown with the skyscrapers! And, best of all, not a lick of clothing touched my body the whole time.

Unfortunately, first we had to get there.

Car seats are definitely not comfortable for dogs.

Once we got to Chicago, Sarah risked my life to attempt to get a picture of me with the Sears Tower WHILE WE WERE DRIVING, and she only succeeded in getting a little bit of it, which stinks, because if you're going to risk my life for a picture, you should at least get a good one.

That's the Sears Tower in the upper left hand part of the picture. I told you it was a bad picture.

Anyway, I insisted on sticking my head out the window as we drove through River North (which is a neighborhood), which led Sarah to call me a country bumpkin. For the record, many people we drove by thought it was cute and awesome. Obviously, because I was involved.

Eventually, we got to the apartment where we were staying, with friends of Sarah's from college. They live in an actual skyscraper, and I took my first elevator ride (OK, maybe that was a little country bumpkin like, as I am well over two now).

 

Here I am checking out the view toward the lake. Pretty good, but not as many squirrels as at home.

Sarah's friends had a dog named Henry. It's very sad, Henry has cancer. But he was still running around and playing.

This is Henry!

One of the best things we did was go for a long walk in the city. There were certainly many smells that I don't get at home.

Walking by the river. Note the distinct lack of grass. Where do people expect me to pee?

We also went to a dog park. Which, like the rest of everywhere, didn't have grass.

That's not grass, it's astroturf. Still, it worked for my body's peeing needs.

After we visited Henry and his family, we went to visit Izzy. That part was cool - I already put a picture of that up on Facebook, so I won't put up another one. Unfortunately, after all that fun, I had to go back to my normal, horrible life with Sarah. However, she leaves tomorrow, so vacation can get started for me!

A Squirrel-y Road Trip - Part 2

Continued from yesterday...

As I discussed yesterday, Sarah (the asshole) decided that the best way to spend Saturday morning would be to go on a road trip. While this would normally be cool - we might go to the pet store, or a dog park, or Wisconsin - yesterday, the road trip was definitely not cool. Not cool at all. You see, Sarah took me to a town called Olney, Illinois, which is known for its white squirrels.

The first thing Sarah made me do was get out of the car to get my picture taken in front of the town sign. Even though the road by the sign was super busy, Sarah managed not to get killed getting out of the car by some semi passing by at high speed (though had this happened, I would have gotten a new owner, which would have been cool). Then, she made me tramp through some swamp-y ditch, just so she would have a picture me in front of the sign.

It's the same picture from yesterday.

Now, in addition to the cars passing at high speed, thanks to the swamp-like conditions near the sign, I had to traipse through mud, hoping not to get bitten by some water moccasin or other dangerous swamp creature. Thankfully, after a couple of pictures, Sarah let me get back in the car, where I felt somewhat safe (as long as I ignored Sarah's shitty driving skills).

Now, I had hoped that Sarah would find my picture with the sign to be adequate, and we would turn around and go home to Terre Haute. My hopes were sadly misplaced. Instead of going home, we went into town to look for live white squirrels.

It did not take long to find those white bastards:

A demon bastard and a regular bastard squirrel look at each other. Probably making plans to taunt me as I sit inside the car.

Now, it turns out, white squirrels are just like regular old squirrels, except with white fur and red eyes. So, basically, they're demon squirrels (as if the regular ones aren't bastards enough). Now, instead of Sarah letting me out to kill these abominations of nature, she forced me to stay inside the car.

Does a regular squirrel taste different from a white one? I will never know, thanks to Sarah.

I totally could have caught at least one of those bastards, even if it had just been a regular one. I mean, those things were everywhere!

A bastard buffet, if only Sarah would let me out of the car.

But did Sarah let me out of the car? Of course not! Instead, she drove to some stupid lake nearby, and made me run around there, where there were no squirrels to chase after, of either the regular or demon sort. So, I jumped in the lake and got back at Sarah by getting the car all dirty when I got in to go home. It wasn't as cool as catching a demon squirrel, but it was something.

Do Not Take My Picture While I Sleep

OK, Sarah (the asshole) needs to have her camera taken away RIGHT NOW:

Seriously. I was taking a fucking nap in the car, and Sarah decides to take a picture of me. This is so, so wrong. There I was, minding my own business, oblivious to the world as I dreamt of locking Sarah in the crate while dangling beer and margaritas in front of the cage, and then snap! Sarah takes a picture of something that should remain out of the public eye.

This is all so very humiliating. I’m sure she has no idea how much email from sick internet perverts I will get after this is published. Actually, maybe she does. That seems very Sarah-like - post pictures of my girl parts so that internet pervs will send me indecent emails. Very sneaky, Sarah. I’m fucking on to you.

A Tornado? Seriously?

OK, so, Sarah (the asshole) took me to Wisconsin for the 4th of July weekend, which was, obviously, awesome. Dog park, lots of people to pester for food, cats to chase up trees, and three straight days where I could avoid Sarah to my heart's content.

Unfortunately, something this awesome could not possibly last (at least, not as long as Sarah is in charge). So, today, Sarah packed up the car and we headed back to Terre Haute. Now, usually, I just pretty much sleep for the entire car ride home. I mean, what the hell does Sarah expect me to do for those five hours? Stare out the window at corn? B-O-R-I-N-G! At least if I am sleeping, I might have an interesting dream where I get to lock Sarah up in the crate at night, and I get to sleep on the comfy bed instead.

Today, though, just for shits and giggles, Sarah decided to liven up the trip home - by DRIVING THROUGH A FUCKING TORNADO. Yes. Seriously. A fucking tornado. Don't believe me? Well, like the dumbass she is, Sarah stopped (after we had driven past the thing) and took a picture:



Of course, being a dumbass, Sarah didn't realize she was driving us through a tornado until after we were past it. Because, you know, the fact that every other car was pulled over to the side of the road wasn't a clue to her. Or, you know, that funnel thing in the sky didn't give her the slightest indication that something was amiss. In case I didn't already suspect that Sarah was trying to kill me, this would confirm it.

I Want to Fly!

Oh, SHIT YEAH:



An airline that flies pets? Consider me a fan. They even have a website. I mean, seriously, riding in a plane would be like the coolest fucking car ride ever.

Sadly, they don't fly out of Indy, which is super close to Terre Haute, but it would be totally worth it to go to Chicago if I got to take a plane ride to Cali. I mean, helloooo, with these good looks, I was born to be in pictures. I bet I would step off of the plane and some producer would point at me and say "Dah-ling, you would be perfect for the lead in my next movie!"

Of course, like Sarah (the asshole) would ever spring for tickets on a pet airline. I'm sure she would be perfectly fine with having me ride in the cargo hold like a piece of luggage. In fact, I bet she will someday take me on a plane ride just so she can make me ride in the cargo hold. She is that much of an asshole.

I Do Not Need a Seat Belt

Oh, dear Lord, what fresh hell is this?


A dog seat belt? Seriously? I just don't have words. OK, maybe I do have a few words.

First, I can see that this could be a good idea, given Sarah's less-than-stellar driving record. But did you see how stupid I look in this? If I ever find out who invented the doggie seat belt, he's definitely going to be the subject of "People Who Should Have Their Balls Cut Off." Frankly, I'll take my chances with Sarah's driving if I can do it while looking cute. Instead, I have to wear this seat belt while in the car, and I look like an asshole.

Second . . . there is no second. A doggie seat belt is just a stupid fucking idea. I'm sure Sarah, dense though she can be, got the point when I wiggled out of the thing. Twice. At least if I die because I am not in the thing, I'll leave a cute corpse, and Sarah might actually appreciate me for all the joy I give her.

Oh, and P.S. - Before someone gets his or her panties all up the asshole, because I'm in the front seat and could get hurt/killed by an air bag, let me remind you that Sarah, asshole that she is, drives a piece of shit car. The thing is most definitely NOT equipped with something so fancy as passenger air bags.

I Deserve a Better Car

I swear, Sarah (the asshole), is trying to kill me. Don't believe me? Look at the piece of shit car she drives me around in:


Yeah, that's right, she drives a car with a front bumper that hangs off. As if being a lawyer who drives a Saturn isn't bad enough, the damn car is hardly road worthy. You'd think that a lawyer would drive a Beamer or a Benz, but not Sarah. Nope, for her, it's a Saturn with 115,000 miles on it. And she seems to have zero desire to replace the thing, either, which forces me to be seen all over town in some broke ass piece of shit car. Oh, I'm sure it was a great car five years ago, but that was five years ago. Things change - just look at Sarah's gray hair. That wasn't there five years ago, I'm sure.

Oh, and in case just being in a car that is in danger of falling apart just by being driven, let me tell you how Sarah did this to her car: she hit one of those cement pylons when she was parking it. I shit you not, she can't even avoid objects that aren't moving. This isn't even the first stationary object that she has hit. I've seen her driving record, and I know all about that brand new parked car that she backed into and totaled. Smooth move, ex-lax. I'm pretty sure that my death will be coming in some horrible accident, most likely involving Sarah hitting a curb or something otherwise completely innocuous.

I hate my life.