September 26, 2004
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Sun
I’m becoming dangerous, just to myself. I bought a puppy today. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing where I saw this darling litter and just had to have one. This has been something I’ve been toying with for a couple months. Before I fix this house up, while there’s still brown carpet from one end of the house to the next, including bathroom and kitchen, I wanted to train a new dog. Especially while the 11-year-old Brittany was still up to it. Last night I came home from the beach and she didn’t even wake up in time to get off the bed. So this new dog is a German Shorthair. I went to get another Brittany but some nerdy little boy beat me to it. I got there first but they had called ahead. You know, like a normal person would. Like I used to. The way I like to do things is get the paper on Saturday, call ahead and narrow the field, then beat everyone out so I get pick of the litter. This showing up at the last minute, picking not even the sex I want and just going by personality is not the way to do things. I mean this dog is not even that good looking. But it was the most mellow, if you can refer to a shorthair as “mellow.” The other thing I liked was that while all the others were whining at the fence, she was busy checking me out. The guy called her “Indy,” short for independent. She was the firstborn. See, I am identifying already. But lets not get into the family dynamic just yet. So now I have to go over and box everything up so it will be ready for the movers by Thursday and then go pick up the puppy on Friday. God, she smelled good. I love that puppy smell. I am already on bad terms with my new neighbors, to the right. And I can just see this puppy digging her way under the fence and into their yard. All it is is chicken wire and stakes. Easy. Oh, well. That’s just part of life with a dog. You gotta go through the puppy thing. I’d tell you about the neighbor thing but I’m not sure if that’s why they don’t seem too friendly any more. It could be that I don’t mow my lawn or it could be that time my dog snuck over there and took a shit. And I gotta think it’s been more than once. You should see their back yard. She could charge admission. Anyway, I’ll never see it again. Is it just me or is this really hard to stop? I mean I am basically just writing to myself but I tend to go on and on. And then when I am finally able to stop, I get up to do the gillion other things I should be doing but I am back in 2 minutes, just checking to see if they showed me in the new-people’s section. Not that my life’s any more interesting than the next person’s but half of the people they show are … well, let’s just say I don’t find their words compelling. I mean sometimes it’s just lyrics, which I prefer to the: Hi, my name’s Ashly and I live with my mom and dad and brother. Granted she’s 14 but, come on, give me something more, “Ash.” Let me feel your pain. Nah, just kidding. But 14 is a bitch. I’d sure never want to go through that again. Listen to me ramble. I’m stopping. RIGHT NOW!
