I am a member

It is official. I have taken the pledge and have joned the “I Hate Buddy” club.

To become a member you must:

1. hate running down the road in barefeet chasing a deranged dog.
2. hate walking through the yard with a shovel and plastic bag picking up 15 lbs of dog poop every day.
3. hate covering holes with bricks and other heavy debris
4. love to walk in your yard without stepping in craps the size of steaming cow turds
5. enjoy your patio table without small chunks gnawed from it
6. prefer your small 20mo old daughter without a coup, counter coup brain injury from said dog slamming into her with enough force to send her through the cement walkway to China.

I have joined the small club, whose members are now totalling 2. My husband joined 2 days after buddy came to live with us.

Now, having said this, I will have every animal activist in America swooping down to point out that I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS BEFORE BRINGING HOME A SMALL ANTELOPE DISGUISED AS A DOG. Yes, we are totally aware of what goes into having a dog for a pet. We just were not prepared for Satan himself leaping into Buddy’s soul and taking over.

Today, I had to jump into the van, drive to where Satan had led the dog formerly known as Buddy, corner him and leap 5 feet through the air to tackle him. The 11 yo neighbor boy had to leap on top of me because the moose was breaking free. We looked like Steve Irwin and company wrestling a croc. I grabbed the #*%$*@ dog by his collar, then triumphantly raised my fist in the air and gave a Croc Hunter “Whooohooo“!

I hate Buddy. And I love him. It is a paradox. I am hoping he calms down with age. But then again, maybe what he needs is some Holy Water and a priest screaming “Be gone Satan!!”.

Lucifer, formerly known as Buddy, formerly known as Milo

Beer, it does a body good.

Oh…remind me to tell you about Pussy Willow and her unique way of letting us know this weekend that she had a bladder infection. It was special.