Unacceptable Walking Behavior

I love my walks. They are one of the few things Sarah does well. So, it pretty much goes without saying that she would find a way to screw them up and make my life worse.

In the morning, Sarah is too lazy to get out of bed early enough to give me a long walk, so we take a short one. Now, normally I would complain about this, but on my morning walk, I get to see two of my favorite people, both of whom give me treats. So, that's awesome. And then I get to play with several other dogs while Sarah chats with people, which is also cool. In the afternoon, I get a long walk, which is quite nice, actually.

However, things weren't always so nice. You see, back when I was a younger pup, I attended puppy training classes. I was awesome at these classes, except I really hated doing one thing: walking on my leash properly (you know, without pulling Sarah).

The joys of pulling Sarah along behind me are many. For example, if it's muddy, she might slip and fall. Her arm hurts from all my pulling, which is a at least a little bit of punishment for the horrible things she does to me. Plus, we end up getting where we're going faster, as if Sarah had her druthers, we'd go at snail speed. BORING.

Sarah did not appreciate all this pulling, so she asked my puppy trainer what to do. The puppy trainer gave her this special harness for me. It was very, very NOT COOL because it was (a) pink, and (b) perfect for making me have to walk without pulling Sarah. Anyway, as long as the harness was part of my life, my walks were not fun. I like pulling Sarah around!

Obviously, I needed to do something about this harness. So, one day at day care, the owner left my harness hanging up where I could reach it. I promptly got it off of its hook and chewed it all up! That's right, $25 of Sarah's money, gone! And me, I got to go back to pulling Sarah.

Without the harness, Sarah quickly tired of this pulling, and purchased another harness. Stupidly, Sarah let me sit in the backseat of the car, and left the harness on me. And you know what? I chewed that one up as well! And the best part? Sarah saw what I had done, and decided that, having spent $50 on harnesses, she wasn't about to purchase another one for me, as I chew them up as soon as I can. She figured that a little arm hurt was worth saving $25.

This state of life without a harness lasted over a year. However, last week we were in the park, and I saw a squirrel and lunged for it. In the process, Sarah fell over. Like, flat on the ground. That part? HILARIOUS.

Not so hilarious? Our trip to the store that very same night to pick up a new harness.

This? This is me in my third harness, contemplating methods to open the drawer where Sarah keeps it so I can destroy yet another $25 of Sarah's hard-earned money.
While Sarah falling over on my account was great, the harness is horrible. I have to walk right next to Sarah all the time, even though the last thing I want is for people to think I'm her dog. I have to walk at snail speed. And dog harnesses are seriously not cool with the dogs in the park. So humiliating.

Still, so long as I can destroy it pretty soon, definitely worth seeing Sarah fall on her butt.

A Mistakenly Identified Chew Toy

I feel the need to complain about something.

You see, back when I was a younger pup, I did some things that I now feel were quite immature, and of which I now wish there was no record.

Take a look at this:

This? This is what a puppy brain hyped on rawhides thinks is a good idea to chew up.
If you're wondering exactly what this is, it's Sarah's cell phone cover. Back as a younger puppy, I mistook this for a toy, and as a result, it looks like something the dog chewed up (because, you know, it is something that the dog chewed up). Now, as you know if you read this blog regularly, I would normally not only find the chewed up cell phone cover to be OK, but actually something awesome, as it makes Sarah quite angry. However, that's just not the case here.

You see, a normal person would see this, and throw it away. Sarah? Not a normal person. Instead of throwing away the cover, Sarah kept the thing and is still using it, even though I chewed it up over a year ago! Even worse, Sarah got this for free, so it's not like she paid a bajillion dollars for it and somehow feels obligated to keep it because of its cost.

And the worst part? People are always giving Sarah strange looks about the cover, and asking her about it. And you know who she blames for this? ME! It's so wrong - I mean, Sarah is the one who insists on carrying around an old and busted cell phone cover, when it would be super easy to go get a new one. Sarah should get the blame here, not me. But, as usual, I'm the one who gets the short end of the stick.

Revenge Is Sweet

Revenge is mine!

As you know, Sarah made me stay at the kennel this weekend while she partied it up in Wisconsin. But last night, I had my sweet, sweet revenge.

Last night, Sarah was cleaning up around the house. She had an Easter rubber ducky that needed to be put away with her Easter decorations, and she left it on the counter to take it to the basement, where she keeps her Easter decorations when it's not Easter season.

What Sarah didn't anticipate about this was that I would see this toy-like object sitting there, and take it for my own (she is not the smartest cookie in the jar). And so, I took it - I just grabbed it off of the counter when she wasn't paying attention, and proceeded to destroy the thing.

I think this rubber ducky is improved with a portion of its head removed, don't you?
Sarah totally didn't even notice for about five minutes, by which time the ducky was headless and on its way to total destruction. Total success!

Gloves: Part of a Nutritious Diet

You know, if Sarah (the asshole) doesn't want me to chew up things, she shouldn't leave them lying somewhere easy to get to, like inside a backpack on top of a counter. Take today, for example. Sarah did just that with her gardening gloves.

Now, her gardening gloves smell wonderful - a combination of dirt and manure. Those are just the sort of things that I LOVE to chew up.

The destroyed glove - note the chewed up thumb. So much fun!

Of course, even better than the joy of chewing up Sarah's gardening gloves was bringing them to her and showing off my handiwork. She was so pissed off at me! She took them away from me, and put them right back in the backpack where they had come from. So, obviously, I went right back and got them out again to continue chewing on them.

Unfortunately, this time when I brought back the gloves, Sarah took them and put them away in a drawer, which I have (so far) been unable to figure out how to open up. It's kind of idiotic of her, though, because what is she going to do with a glove with a chewed up thumb? It's no good any more, she might as well let me continue chewing them up.

But before she did that, she made me take a picture with the fruits of my labor:

These only cost $2, yet Sarah is still pissed off at their demise. Not just an asshole, she's cheap to boot.

So, so mean to me. I hate Sarah.

Counter Surfing Is the New Hotness

Among Sarah's insane number of arbitrary rules are about a million rules related to food. One of the most annoying is her rule against counter surfing.

For those of you not in the know, counter surfing is when a dog - such as myself - puts his or her paws up on the kitchen counter to see what sort of goodness is being hidden up there.

I'm only 2 1/2 feet tall. How does Sarah expect me to see what's on the counter if I don't counter surf?

Like, 90% of the time, there's nothing on the counter worth my time or attention. Probably because, in addition to being an asshole, Sarah is very, very boring (and yet she wonders why she has no mans...).

But sometimes, Sarah leaves perfectly good food up there. I mean, just this weekend alone, Sarah left several plates with decent amounts of leftovers in them on the counter. And you know what she was going to do with that perfectly good food? Put it right down the garbage disposal! Does she think that I'm going to let perfectly good food go to waste like that? Not a chance! So, I counter surfed, and ate up what was leftover.

Of course, over time, I've gotten better at counter surfing. Sarah used to be able to put things at the back of the counter and keep them away from me, but I've wised up:

That's right, Sarah. I figured you out!

Of course, there might be some of you who see my desire to get at food on the counter as a source of my not-entirely-svelte figure. And you know what? You're assholes, just like Sarah.

Bath Time Is Not Fun Time

For some, the weekend is the best part of the week. For me, though, it sucks. You see, during the week, Sarah (the asshole) is at work most of the time, so I am on my own to do as I please. However, on the weekend, Sarah is here, and I am forced to put up with her all day.

Take yesterday. It was a beautiful day here, and it started off just fine - Sarah took me for a nice, long walk, and I got to see a bunch of other dogs. But then, we got home, and, because it was nice, I went out in the backyard, where I was minding my own business. As part of my business, I decided to roll in a substance I found back there. Hey, what can I say? I like the eau de shit (I am a dog, after all).

Now, I came back in, and Sarah was not very happy with me. This is what I looked like:

Lookin' good, if I do say so myself.

While I was happy to have pissed Sarah off, I was not happy with what happened next. You see, Sarah immediately decided I could not be in the house in this state, so she dragged me upstairs and gave me a bath. I wasn't even that dirty, just a little dirty!

I hate baths.

Thankfully (and surprisingly), Sarah did not take a picture of me while I was getting my bath. However, after I got out, she took this one of me:

All clean. Not a happy camper.

But I got the last laugh - as soon as I was all clean, I went right back outside and rolled in the crap again. Sarah was so frustrated she didn't even give me a second bath. And she left me alone for the rest of the day. It was awesome.

Rules Are Not For Me

Sarah (the asshole) has some completely arbitrary rules around the house. One rule that really pisses me off involves the two couches in the house. In the TV room, we have a hard, uncomfy couch without pillows. In the living room, we have a soft, super comfy couch with a bunch of pillows.

Now, Sarah only lets me go on one of these couches. I'm sure you're familiar enough with Sarah's asshole ways to know that I'm not allowed on the comfy couch, even though Sarah rarely uses it, AND it has a great view out the front window of the house.

Heavenly napping on the good couch - so close, yet so far away.

Luckily for me, Sarah is gone at least 8 hours a day at work. So, in the morning, after watching Sarah leave and making sure that the coast is clear, I jump right on up on the couch and settle in for a nice nap. Now, it's all fine and dandy when Sarah is at work and I can just snooze away. But when she comes home, I'm forced to obey the couch rule and only sleep on the uncomfy couch.

Admittedly, sometimes I try and break the rules, like when Sarah is watching TV and super caught up in paternity tests on Maury (she has AWFUL taste in television, like so many other things). But the moment that she gets up off of her butt and catches me, all hell breaks loose. She immediately yells at me, like I've eaten a pair of shoes or something really bad. I'm always thinking, chill the fuck out, Sarah, I'm just lying on the couch. It's not the end of the world.

I guess I really shouldn't expect anything else from Sarah, though. She is, after all, an asshole.

A Short-Lived Victory

Haha! I completely messed with Sarah (the asshole) earlier this week! You see, Sarah spends far too much time on her computer, when a good owner would spend that time taking me out for walks or to the pet store or for a car ride. So, Thursday night, I pretended I was chewing on a toy, but instead, I was chewing right through the computer cord:

See that? That's the cord in two pieces. I even did it without getting a big shock (trust me, I have some experience in this particular subject. It involved Sarah's Playstation - of course, that was totally worth the shock to get Sarah to actually pay some attention to me for once).

I figured this would get me at least a weekend of Sarah being forced to do fun things with me, but I wasn't counting on Amazon being able to ship a new one so that it would arrive on a Saturday. Turns out, Amazon employs a bunch of bastards who wish to facilitate Sarah's assholishness, and they have Saturday delivery. So, of course, Sarah got the Saturday delivery, and I got to spend my Saturday watching her play on the computer.

Next time, I chew up the cord on a Friday night after the deadline for Saturday delivery has passed, and ensure that Sarah has to play with me all weekend.

Torture. Pure Torture.

So, Sarah (the asshole) got a gift for Christmas: a camera. However, it's not just any camera. It's a camera that hooks onto my collar, and takes pictures every few minutes. Sarah fucking loves this thing, and I have to bear the consequences.

Like today, for instance. Sarah put the camera on me, so she could see what I did all day while she was at work. Obviously, I do shit while she is at work that I am not allowed to do while she is at home. Before the camera, I got away with all sorts of shit. Not any more. Sarah got to see me lying all over the good couch, getting it nice and furry and smelling like peachy me.

Now, this Big Brother shit would be bad enough, but Sarah has seen fit to start a fucking blog and put my antics all over the internet for the world to see. Such an asshole.

Stuck in a Chair

This is just so not cool:

Seriously, Sarah, this outdoes your normal assholishness by so much, it's like you've been taking asshole classes. I mean, really? You went and got you video camera to take a picture of me stuck instead of helping me? That was just plain wrong.

And who has lawn chairs as family room furniture? This whole problem could have been avoided had you bought real chairs, instead of these $10 Wal-Mart things. Heck, even I could get behind the purchase of a couch, even though it might mean fewer toys and less food for me. Plus, it will prevent this from happening in the future, if ever I decide to jump on the chair again.