I had planned on giving you a really ripping yarn about my bodily functions (read: poop) and how they affect my life and the lives of those around me. Then I thought more about it and decided you did not really need to read a post about that. Well, maybe you do, but not right now anyway. Aside: I find it quite humorous how my two-legs has to pick up my poop. Who is the master in that situation again?
Anyway, back to the task at hand. It was now Tuesday and I was lounging around the house, racking my brain for ideas on my next post. It has been a very boring uneventful (napping, eating and lounging all day is not boring, it just does not make for good blogging) past few days. Then I remembered a funny phenomenon that occasionally happens in the bedroom (no, not that, get your mind out of the gutter). It is not that funny in words, but is really funny in images. So all I had to do was wait for the right moment. Sure enough, Wednesday morning, my two-legs is getting ready for work, the joy of having him finally be awake has worn off, and big-little-bro and I have laid down again for some needed rest. Yes! This is it! Perfect! I told my two-legs to snap a pic and post it for the world to see:
No, it is not forced perspective. The big dog is in the little bed and the little dog is in the big bed.
Take all that in for a moment. In the upper part of the frame we have me. A 25-ish pound mini-schnauzer, taking up what is probably a 16-inch by 10-inch area of a massive 36-inch by 48-inch pad. At the bottom is big-little-bro. A 80-ish pound uhh, err, dog, oozing out of a 24-inch by 24-inch puppy bed.
Now you may be thinking, “Well maybe your bed is more comfortable?” First off, the pillow that you are supposed to be laying on at the bottom is just bunched but beside him. Probably because two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Secondly, both are equally comfortable beds. Mine (my real bed) is plush microfiber and has little walls that I can nestle into in. His (his real bed) is a hand-crafted aerofoam bed covered in soft microfiber. It was made to his exact dimensions with a bit extra so he could stretch out (the skirted two-legs is a whiz with needle and thread). For reasons I cannot fathom, big-little-bro insists on wedging himself into my bed. Not only is he stretching it out and shedding profusely on it; I do not see how it can possibly be enjoyable to curl up in. Meanwhile I sit like a flea on a tennis court! And I cannot get his bed to my liking because it is aerofoam! You ever tried to move around aerofoam to build up a little cushion? I paw at that thing for about 15 minutes before I just give up. My life is like the princess and the fricking pea here.
As you may or may not know, my two-legs keeps me under 24-hour surveillance (well, so long as I am in camera shot). He says he does it for a laugh, or to make sure I am OK while he as it work. I really think he likes to spy on my and big-little-bro while he is not here… it is like he does not trust me or something.
But I really pulled it over on him today. In the past I have tried just turning off the webcam from his little black box in the living room; however, he apparently has the magic ability to log into his computer from remote locations and turn the webcam software back on. So I upped the ante. Lets see him turn the computer back on when I unplug it. Muhwahahaha. I am an evil genius.
I told big-little-bro to sit all cute on the 4-legs couch and I would hide in the big circle chair and then we would pull the plug. Now we look all cute and innocent, but in reality, we have total impunity and the apartment is ours!
What shall we do? What shall we do? I think a good long nap is in order. See my locked shot below:
It's just like that scene in Speed when they trick Dennis Hopper
Whilst dozing on the comfy spot yesterday afternoon it occurred to me just how good my life is. My two-legs has given me a bounty of places to curl up and nap or spend hours licking my salt and pepper hair. It was not too long ago that I did not even have a place to rest my weary bones. Those were dark days…
So as big-little-bro and I chased the BIRDS in our sleep, something dark and forboding drifted in the back of my mind. Something I was forgetting. Something I should have know by now. Something that was going to hurt.
Hark! A jingling at the door! My two-legs is home. Must greet him. What? What couch? Oh, the comfy place? But, it is where I sleep when you are away. It is sooooo soft and nice. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
And now its time to hide under the little table. That is what I was trying to remember, sleeping in the comfy place gets me smacks on the butt. Sigh.
The spot is his. For now. I suppose I can find comfort on the other couch, or the big comfy chair, or the giant circle pup chair, or my bed, or his bed, or little-big-bro’s bed, or the cozy corner. Hmmm, decisions decisions.
Why does my two-legs do horrible, horrible things to me? I show him nothing love and yet he continually terrorizes me. Take today for example:
I was sitting around, resting. Big-little-bro was destroying something. And my two-legs was sitting on the couch watching Futurama. He looks over to me, “Ruff, you’re getting pretty shaggy. I think you need a haircut.”
A haircut? Why does that word sound so familiar? “And you know what happens after a haircut? A Bath!!”
Bath? Bath?!? Nooooo! Damn you! The water is so loud, and it gets in my nose and ears. I just cannot stand it, I want to die.
I try to hide but he always finds me. Big-little-bro is no help, he just cowers in the corner. He knows what a bath is too, and he likes them even less than I do. The haircut is no picnic either. I am pretty sure I passed out while he ravaged me with that buzzing beastly thing. The next thing I remember is being lowered into that white fiberglass pit. Naked and scared. *guwarrrrrKswissssshhhhh* Indoor rain pours out of the metallic serpant head. He could at least let it warm up first. Then comes the soap. *scrub*scrub*scrub* This is torture, it has to be torture. The end is near, freedom is coming. *hnkft*snarf*pftht* Water up my nose. Must get it out. Ah, towel time. Wait, what is doing. This is no time for pictures two-legs!
I am so hurt by his attempt to bathe me.
Well great, now have that recorded for posterity. Can you please just dry me off and let me run around to dry? Must break free of this place! I paw open door and shoot out of the bathroom like a bolt. Bounding from couch to chair to couch to bed to chair to floor to big-little-bro to couch in effort to drive all of the water out of me. That. Was. So. Stressful.
Some 4-legs like the water. I loathe the water. The only thing I want to do with it is drink it, but even then, it must be contained in a shallow dish or bowl so it cannot attack me. I am going back to sleep now. That totally took all of my energy to panic and be upset over bathtime. My hair is not grey on its own… he stresses it into me.
I miss home.
I had a nice little fluffy bed where Bear and I could curl up and just doze for hours. It was right at my height (I am pretty short) in a safe little corner. And if I was not happy there, I could always find soft couch or a warm body to sleep on. Things have changed.
In this cold, drafty, third floor apartment I have to fight for comfy spots with my two-legs. Lets make a list shall we:
- the floor (carpeted yes but boring and I could be stepped on)
- his bed (right by the constantly open windows, pretty hard too)
- his small chair (where he is 98% of the time he is home)
- the big chair (my spot of choice when it is not covered in his junk)
So there we have it folks. Four sub-standard places for me to nap. Nothing safe, nothing cozy. Woe is me!
Ah but what have we here. My two-legs brought home new things. Ooo, treats. Yay! a new Bear! Hmmm, looks like he got some stuff too. Yipee…
Wait, there is something else at the bottom. Looks soft. Just about my size. Smells right. Where’s he taking it? The corner by the table… sweet, three walls of protection. Lets try this out. I will just adjust the pillows here, move this bit of padding a bit more over here, stretch out this bit here, circle three times to flatten it all out, and down. Aaaahhhh. Not bad. Not bad.
Life can be pretty sweet sometimes.