I have two very very hairy daughters.
Hair bag number one is Lola, a snobby, precious, princessy, comfort junky.
Full name: Lola Golganzola
Hair bag number two is Daisy, a stinky, farty, licky, dog-bed shagger.
Full name: Daisy Google Lickinears.
I would like to think that we have control over our hairy children, the reality is, these bitches own us!!
Five years ago when I put on a baby voice and said I wanted a dog, Lord Daa Doo said "Sure, but it will sleep outside". *grumble grumble blah blah.
He rummaged in the backyard and found use for an old timber pallet he had horded. After lots of annoying hammering I was called outside and proudly shown a dog kennel complete with a doggy verandah. It looked like a timber log hut found in rural areas of the US. You know, the ones that look like they are about to fall down, and have a rocking chair on the verandah (or porch).
He finished it off by carelessly throwing an old blanket inside the kennel and saying "There, it can sleep in that".
I was so excited! I have always had dogs and consider myself a bit of a dog-whisperer. Lord Daa Doo was indifferent.
The first day Lola came home, she could fit in one of Lord Daa Doo's hands. She was so tiny. As it was my dog, I had the crap job of going to the shops to buy all the things we needed such as, dog beds, toys, food etc, I asked Lord Daa Doo to mind her while I was gone.
When I came back, immediately I could sense that something wasn't right. Something just felt wrong.
I walked into the house and found Lord Daa Doo lying on the ground with Lola wriggling on top of him. He was giggling!! Yes !!! GIGGLING!!
"Whats going on here!" I demanded. As soon as I saw the look in his eyes, I wished I'd never left them. He didn't need to speak. I knew what had happened.
They'd fallen in love!!!
My heart broke. I felt uncomfortable and out of place. I was the odd person out, or the third person that lives with a couple. They had 'in' jokes, and I was on the outside. Lonely, cold, abandoned, alone.
That night a terrible storm hit, and we got ready for bed. Lord Daa Doo looked at me, looked at Lola and said. "She's too little to sleep outside in a storm, she'd better stay here with us". He swiftly picked her up and put her in our bed. She looked at him with her big eyes and made an itzy bitzy puppy whimper.
He said "nawwwww", turned his back on me and proceeded to spoon her.
From that day on, she has always plotted against me. I know she sees herself as the girlfriend and I am the bitch. I know she is thinking of ways to get rid of me. I keep finding things like sharp bones left on the ground so I tread on them with bare feet, and suspiciously placed dog toys that trip me over.
I can tell she's plotting because I am a dog whisperer.
She's a bitch, but a darn it, I can see why he's fallen for her. She's a cute bitch!