Dear Dobby, there is no other way to say it – you’re an asshole. You may have notice the two humans you live with occasionally saying, “we get it now, we know why you were left on the side of the road.” That is because we have developed an intricate backstory for you where you’ve lived in about 7 different homes and all of them start out taking care of this sweet little dog who just needs food and love and then fast forward 7 months and the people are pacing while pulling their hair out before freaking out and driving you back to where I found you. You feel great and have ALL the energy in the world – I’m thrilled. Let me detail your current assholery:
- toilet paper is not food. We only have ONE roll left, if you steal and eat that I am wiping with you.
- your sisters (Ziesa & Piper) are not your personal chew toys.
- Not all straps are evil and must be destroyed. Straps attached to items such as shoes, bags, furniture, etc. are there ON PURPOSE – they are not evil.
- My bras are not yours to chew and destroy despite being made of mostly straps. Bras are also not to steal and run with into the yard (why does this keep happening to me)?
- Neither of your brothers (Sam & Humphrey) want you to crawl into their mouths and when they tell you to stop you should maybe not make screeching noises like they are killing you – I’m watching, they didn’t touch you. You appear to be extremely passive aggressive, which is weird in a dog.
- This confidence (assholeishness) you show at home – could you perhaps save some of that for the outside world? I know everything is scary and I am trying to take things slowly, but I promise everything is not out to get you.
So, Dobby’s doing well, healthy, happy, etc. No, we are not getting rid of him, I just like bitching every once in a while. I don’t know if the shelter judged him a bit older than he was or if he is finally going through a delayed adolescence due to early starvation – doesn’t matter, he is full on embracing his “adolescent asshole” stage.
I love the little monster.
In other news on Monday morning the (not nice)neighbors’ (probably nice but has issues)dog was heading South down the road. I’m not proud that for half a second I thought about calling the police, but I made the better-person decision to herd the barky fuzzy-butt back into his yard to keep him from getting run over. Fuzzy-butt is/was fear-reactive so he was super pissed (from a distance) as I moved him towards his yard just by talking and walking towards him. His human came out a bit shocked as she said she didn’t even realize he was outside. I just nodded and waved goodbye while thinking, “Yeah, it sucks when that happens, doesn’t it?”
All’s well that ends well. ❤