I don’t know how many people make New Year’s resolutions but my thought is that most do. Maybe it’s not the “I’m going to lose weight” type or the “I’m going to get to the gym more” or basically any of the so-called healthy ones that I’ve heard from others (fine and myself) over my life. Since I’ve never succeeded in keeping a resolution past 9 a.m. on January 1st of any year, I decided to try some easier, more beneficial for my life, type resolutions. These are my resolutions for 2016. Wish me luck!
Resolution One: I will no longer ask: “WTH?” (For those who don’t know, that means what the hell?) Or “Dude?” Before I continue, you need to know that the word Dude is quite versatile. It can be used as a statement; Dude. As an exclamation; Dude! Or as a question; Dude? The question way is pretty much all I ever use with the dogs. In reality, using it as a question flows nicely with the use of WTH? So when someone does something that you just don’t get, or understand why they’d do such a thing, you say, “Dude? WTH?” See, it’s perfect together. Remember though, the question use is truly rhetorical. How fun is this little field trip of knowledge? (Rhetorical).
Resolution One situations that I will no longer ask: “Dude? WTH?”
-When Jax sneezes and blows the nastiest of nasty white snot boogers on me. Unfortunately this nastiness most often lands on my neck and arms. Yes; I am fortunate that it doesn’t get on my face. Or am I? Yea, that happened. Yea, it’s disgusting. Yea, it’s always accompanied by the heebie-jeebies and…..”Dude? WTH?” I resolve to not show my grossed outtedness (if I can spell it, it’s a word) with my questions and I will simply say, “Bless you,” while wiping myself off. No, seriously; I’m really going to try.
-When Ryder stands quietly behind my desk chair and barks because he finds it necessary to see how much bladder control I have. That is always followed by…..”Dude? WTH?” I resolve to stop asking these stupid questions because I just told you why he does it.
-When the dogs eat house stuff. And by the dogs, I mean Ryder. For instance, when we came home last night and the area rug was folded over, unraveled (quite a bit) on one side, and pieces of it were scattered around the living room. This was a two part question situation. One happened when we walked in and saw it and I said, “WTH?” The second happened when Ryder ran in from outside and had strings from the rug hanging out of his mouth (no joke); at that point it became, “Dude! WTH?” See, I told you, it’s a versatile word. Another scenario along these same lines is when we had company over and put the dogs in the area of the hall bathroom and the three bedrooms. We did this because we were all eating and it keeps them from sliming guests. Anyway, after the others left, I opened the hall gate to let the dogs back into the living room/kitchen area. When I looked down the hallway and into our bedroom, one of the dog beds had exploded. There was matting, stuffing, and material in a pretty big circle and Ryder was standing right on top of the mess. Now, you may think that just because he was in the center of it, he may not be guilty. Yea, that doesn’t work because, when he looked up at me, he had the green stuffing hanging out of his mouth! This was definitely a, “Dude? WTH?” situation. So, I resolve to not ask my questions when these things happen. Mostly because I believe if Ryder could answer those questions he’d say something along the lines of, “Dude! It’s fun!”
-These two things kind of go together, sleeping on me and jumping on me to get off the bed. These two situations always get the same reaction from me when they happen and it’s simply, “WTH?!” It is used as both a question and a very strong (and usually loud) exclamation. I’ll explain why (I know you can’t wait!). It’s never Crispie or Blaze that sleep on me. No, that’d be too easy. It’s always Jax or Ryder. These two give a whole new meaning to the words “dead weight.” This isn’t just because they are big dogs. This is more because when they lay down they somehow morph into elephants. Dude! I’m serious. They are both so damn heavy and when they decide to lay on my legs or plop down on half of my body, it’s like someone just said, “Catch this,” and threw me a rhino. Then there’s the really cool thing that Ryder and Crispie do when they’re on the bed with me and they hear something in the other part of the house. They jump from the spot they’re in, onto either my legs or stomach, and then off the bed. You know, it’s not like it’s a twin bed. No, it’s a king. It’s not like they can’t jump East and South and be on the floor. Nope, they absolutely have to jump West. Well you know what? West is me. I am West. West is my side of the bed. So I ask you, “Dude? Why? WTH?” Hmm, I’m thinking that the whole resolution thing may not happen on this one. I call pass on this one.
Resolution Two: I will no longer ask the question that even I can admit is extremely stupid, yet I ask it anyway: “Why would you do that?” I think we all know that it too has to be rhetorical because, well, our dogs don’t talk to us. They’ve yet to answer any question I’ve asked them. So, in reality, I’m the not so smart one for continuing to pose the question. Also, I know that no matter what explanation the dogs would give me (if they actually could), it would not make the, “Why would you do that?” situation acceptable.
Resolution Two situations that I will no longer ask: “Why would you do that?”
-The, oh so very, unpleasant poop eating. I just don’t understand the infatuation with eating poop. Obviously that’s mostly because I’m a human but I don’t get the why of it for the dogs either. So yes, I am continuously asking them, “Why would you do that?” You know, one of them could answer me sometime and say, “Dude! It’s good.” I’d know they were lying though. No not because I’ve tried it but because I’ve cleaned it up. I’ve smelled their poops and there’s absolutely no way that something can smell terrible but taste good. Cinnamon rolls for instance. They smell great and taste amazing. Pizza too. It smells great and tastes amazing. You get the picture. It’s just not possible.
-The enormously grotesque poop burps I’ve spoken of. For clarification, a poop burp is when the dog has just eaten poop and burps in your face. This is worse than any dog fart I’ve had the displeasure of smelling. So, when a poop burp enters my oxygen space there’s always a, “Why would you do that?” that gets asked. I know Ryder isn’t going to say, “Dude. I thought it’d be funny.” No. Maybe he thought that the first time but I assure you that after 752 times of me gagging and saying, “Why would you do that?” he knows it’s so not funny. Yet it still happens. I mean it’s not daily or anything but still. Wait, what am I doing? Am I seriously trying to justify my frustration about our dog eating poop and then burping in my face? Why would I do that?
-The very unfunny game of poop relocating. Yes, this always, always, always gets the question, “Why would you do that?” There’s no reason for them to do it. A turd left on the sofa or on the dog bed serves no purpose whatsoever. If they did it so they could have a snack for later, they wouldn’t leave it in those place because one of the others might eat it. So, I know it’s done to make me crazy and because they think it’s funny. Yea sure, haha it’s so not funny. Compare this behavior to that of a toddler taking their poopy diaper and leaving it on the sofa; open. Now you’re getting. Disgusting right? I know! So, “Why would you do that?” I resolve to stop asking the rhetorical and completely asinine question, “Why would you do that?” At least when it pertains to poop eating, poop burps, and poop relocation. This is not going to be an easy task; I’m certain of that already!
Resolution Three: There are some situations that I have a very hard time not laughing at. Many times though, these are situations similar to a toddler blurting out an “adult” word. In reality, it’s not funny; but, when it happens it’s really hard not to laugh. These things happen with dogs too.
Resolution Three: Situations that I will stop inappropriately laughing at.
-The holes that Ryder and Jax dig. You see, I think this is funny. I think it’s funny that the dirt flies so far away from the hole that it can’t be found and therefore used to fill the hole. I laugh when I see them digging so intently. The problem here is that Marc (as I’ve told you) does not think it’s at all funny. He gets a bit frustrated with them. Me laughing just kind of, well, intensifies the situation for him. I’m telling you though, if you saw them dig you’d laugh too; they look like cartoon dogs digging.
-The sprinklers that Ryder and Jax eat. Marc really, really, really does not think this is funny. And I try so hard not to laugh but picture this: We go outside and there’s the sprinkler on the ground right next to the hole it just came from. It looks like it just fell over. It’s not torn apart. Well, I mean it has teeth marks but most of the pieces are still intact. It’s definitely not usable but it looks usable. It just strikes me as funny because they don’t chew it up, they don’t take it anywhere, they just lay it down as if to say…mission accomplished. It’s funny to me.
-The eating of the hose. I try. I really do; but it’s so damn hard not to. We bought the hose at Costco and at that time it measured 25-feet. Usually we go cheap on things like this but we spent a little more for a better grade and longer hose. What we didn’t know was that the joke was going to be on us. Technically on Marc but still. Anyway, over the last month or so, we’ve come home many times and found a piece of hose on the dog bed. These pieces have ranged from six to eighteen inches in length. It is actually comical. Like many other things, Marc doesn’t agree. I’m assuming that’s probably because the hose is now about two feet long, if that. I’m positive that if you walked over and saw this two feet piece of hose sticking straight out of the spout, you’d laugh too. Maybe not as hard as me, but you’d at least find it smile worthy.
Nice, 25-feet hose.
I resolve to stop my inappropriate laughing. Especially at those things that Marc doesn’t find humorous. Ok, we all know that’s not even a little bit true but I will try not to let him see me laughing. I think that’s still a really good resolution and also quite considerate of me.
Resolution Four is acceptance. There are so very many things that happen in our house, with our dogs, that I fight but never win. I know that each situation is a losing battle but my stubbornness keeps me thinking that “this time it’ll work.” I drive myself crazy doing this. Yet, intelligent me, continues to do it.
Resolution Four situations that I will simply accept.
-Getting crop dusted. This is where the dog farts as he or she is walking by you and it’s like you’ve just been covered with fart dust.
-Zoey sleeps across doorways. Not a big deal really. Unless of course, it’s dark, and you trip, and you go stumbling, while you try to regain your balance, prior to hitting the wall.
-Blaze sitting six inches away and pawing my leg as if he thinks he’s invisible.
He’s ignoring me from six inches away.
-Ryder thinking it’s necessary to stick his head behind the shower curtain when I’m showering. Have I mentioned that I scare easily? That I’m jumpy? Yea, he scares the crap out of me sometimes when he does it.
-Ryder lays outside the bathroom door. Yes, I could pay better attention when I leave the bathroom and I am trying to but occasionally I forget he’s there. Not fun. Not funny. Not appreciated.
-Crispie laying in the kitchen. Not tragic. That is unless you aren’t warned prior to stepping back. That lack of warning can cause havoc, trust me.
-Ryder waking me with his incredibly wet, cold nose.
-Crispie being so amazing at communicating her, “I don’t give a sh** look,” at the times when I truly need her to give one.
As we are taking down the pool and she lays on it, I say,
“Crispie you have to move,” and this is the response I get.
This was definitely one of her “I don’t give a sh**” times.
So, I just realized that’s a whole lot of acceptance. I’m scaring myself a little. I think I’ll stop here. I now resolve that I will “try” to accept all of these things! I’m not promising anything though. I mean I’ll attempt it; for real. It just doesn’t seem totally likely.
I think I might be starting to regret this whole resolution stuff. This isn’t going to be easy at all. I mean, there’s only four resolutions but because we have like 60 dogs (it feels that way sometimes ok?), there are so many situations that go with each resolution. The list has gotten away from me. I’m scared. I think, um, well, maybe I’ll just do half. Or I could just do a little bit of them. I know; I could try not committing to any of them so that when, I mean if, I don’t do them, meaning if they aren’t possible, then I’m not failing. Why didn’t I think of that before? I mean, with this list, I’m just setting myself up for failure and that’s just dumb. Here, I got it; I resolve to not stress myself out by making a bunch of resolutions. Perfect!