Day 219 "Canine disrespect"


I feel like my dog Hubble has even less respect for me now that I'm a father. 

I just came in to lay in bed after getting some work done in the basement and the 20 pound ShitTzu (misspelling purposeful) is laying directly in my spot.  

What's worse is that as I'm disrobing ~insert sexy music here: and then ruin it by picturing my pot bellied 200 pound frame awkwardly shimmying out of $30 sweat pants from Walmart...-/

Anyway, as I'm disrobing the dog just glances up at me, without moving any other part of his body in the least, and does nothing.  

No attempt to move.  

No wag of the tail in greeting.  

Not even a snort of derision with the knowledge that despite his motionless'ness he WILL be moving. And very soon.  


I finally have to crawl into bed and force him, ever so quietly but persistently with my knee, to move the hell over.  

This is yet another example of the shoddy state of the respect levels over here on the mountain, between primate and dog. For whatever reason, despite the clear finger/thumb advantage, this organism simply refuses to submit to my authority. 

I really thought having the baby would help.

I figured it would finally show him that I am, in fact, an adult of my species and have finally put a stake in the game; as I hope the saying goes...

I'm also now an an 'elder' in the house and since seniority rules apply in nearly every species on Earth and elsewhere?.. I thought this would further help my cause. 


He continues to ignore me on a frequent basis. 

No matter. I still have the very son I've been referring to who still has a chance of doing as I say... at some point... during his lifetime...  


As to his general state of health and well being I can say confidently that he appears to be doing quite well, despite the occasional blarp of a sound that leaves both Jeannette and I scratching our heads.

He sounds like a very fit and determined old man clearing his throat suddenly.., if that visual paints any coherent picture in your brain meat at all. 

He also shit a thunderstorm tonight. Poor Jeannette changed him ~I saw the diaper by the way and it almost undid me. Gruesome. Grim. Ungodly. ...she did a god job cleaning it too, in that she didn't puke or die, until she found the little surprise about five minutes later. 

She reached under to pick him up and felt what she thought was Vaseline on his back.  

Nope. Poo. All up his back and on his clothes. And now on her hand. That'll teach her to keep the lights dim. 

Doesn't matter. It's not like her and I can have sex for a while anyway. And she'll have had ample shower opportunities to rid herself of the 'stain of pure evil' that touched her today. 

But the memories... haunting.  

Tomorrow, more of the same with hopefully more sleep and less shit back.  

Have a good night munks.