The Fucking Dog

That’s my complaint of the day, the fucking dog.  He’s a lovely dog, an ugly rescued Pitbull…but that fucking dog.

He is particularly needy or I am particularly sensitive to his normal camping at the beach needs any dog may have. 20170703_181114 (2)

Either way he’s on my last fucking nerve, he’s breathing so therefore he is on the highly sought after shit list.  Poor guy.

All in all, it’s not an unexpected aggravation, and it’s really not all that bad.  If bitching about my dog is the negative highlight of my day – I’m doing well.

In all honesty, I do feel for the poor dog, I’ve put bug repellant, bought a family size citronella candle but these mother fucking biting flies are like something out of Lord of the Rings.  It sucks to be the poor dog right now.

I asked my absolutely useless legal spouse to *please* take the dog for a few days, I do have a wedding after all.  I actually have decent people in my life and the person who was willing to tend to the dear dog is having surgery…

I emailed, please take your half of your fucking dog so he doesn’t keep getting eaten alive.

Apparently, it’s “not his house”, and it’s a “long time” to keep the dog.  Ya know, until Sunday is apparently too much to ask of someone who sucks off his mother’s unhealthy functioning, has no job or responsibilities.

Dude, we wouldn’t even have to *see* each other, just please take the damn dog that is your dog too.

Nope.  Not surprising, not unexpected.  Who knows, maybe he found another unstable piece of ass in one of his many rounds of ‘treatment’ & ‘help’.  I shouldn’t judge so harshly, I know.

Regardless, I’m stuck with the damn dog (who I really do love with all my heart), and I’m avoiding writing my cliff note version of my timeline for my therapist.

Pointless blogs about a dog are a great way to avoid doing any soul searching work of writing out my timeline…

But it is the 3rd of July in a little beach town south of Boston where the locals aka townies, put on an ‘illegal’ fireworks show that rivals the pops.

Pain in the ass dog or not, tonight we will enjoy that we *get* to be here and enjoy what we have the opportunity to.

The dog…well, I felt for the poor guy and bought him a can of wet food, he’s happy now.

-ml

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