primordial
That sound you heard, that voice? The tortured cry that sounded out loud enough for all of the garden state to hear Sunday morning? That was me. It started out simply enough. Evan and I set out to walk the devil. And we went on a street we had never walked before. And we saw a path off the street. And I took the devil off of the leash, not only for her pleasure but for to assist in the never ending battle to keep my leash holding hand's shoulder grounded safely within it's socket. And as Evan and I ventured deeper into this previously unchartered by my territory, it got wetter and wetter.
And honestly more into the woods meant more beautiful. I asked Evan if he could imagine when our entire neighborhood looked like that photo. And dinosaurs roamed the landscape. And four legged devils decided to stop, drop and roll in the primordial ooze. Oh yes she did. Several times. And then a few more. Despite my ground shaking (<- voice ->) soul shredding piercing wail of protest. And then she would drop down and rub around on some deer shit to dry off.

Guess how ineffective dog claws are in attempt to stop your 78 pound stinking self from being dragged across a tile floor and into a stall shower. Yup. They are worthless. Now the devil has the frizzies. And honestly, my conditioner turns out to be a wee bit fruity smelling, (who knew?) but at least the kids assure me that it smells better on my head than on her fur.


There are few things that have such a pungent odor as a wet dog...except maybe boys' socks (pre-laundry, and depending on how bad, sometimes post, too)...those might be worse. I say fruity or not, she's got to be smelling better after than before!
Posted by: Suzanne Says... | May 07, 2008 at 07:39 PM