So, it's early Thursday morning. I'm still running on Wednesday's steam. Sue me.
Last night, I let the dogs out. I swear, they will sit on the deck when I let them outside, but the second they are in the house, they start play-fighting. Hank is roughly the size of my car. And having a furry PT cruiser rough-housing in the living room is no good. His tail alone has enough power to knock over various vases, decorative candles, and glasses of whatever beverage you happen to be drinking at the time.
So, I let the dogs out for a while, and went to let them in. Sam came in readily, Hank was sitting out in the grass playing with a stuffed animal. Then, it occurred to me that Hank didn't have any stuffed animals. I shrieked when I realized it was a opossum that he was munching on. I called to Hank, who left his furry friend to come to the house, realized he forgot his friend, turned to go back for it, until I started jumping up and down on the deck, ordering him inside. Dejected, he went inside the house without his opossum.
Brother was at work, so I called Mom and told her about Hank's catch, and would Mr. Recommendation come and get rid of it?? I don't touch dead animals. Dead people, sure, but not animals. I had a guinea pig that died once, and I called a friend over to come take it out of it's cage.
So, Mom and Mr. Recommendation come over because Mom wants to see the dead opossum. Only, it's not dead. It's still alive, but barely. It's kind of hard to sustain life when you've been chewed on by an 8 month Saint Bernard. Mr. Recommendation says it's okay for me to touch it because it's not dead yet.
Everyone's a smartass, I swear.
Mr. Recommendation disposes of the grotesque critter, covered in blood and poop because it soiled itself (I would too if I was tiny and saw Hank's jowels coming at me). The damn thing must have lived under my deck, which explains why the dogs have been interested in the goings-on under the deck for the past week or so. This makes the second opossum caught, not to mention the large raccoon that Brother scared out this summer. I must have Jack Hannah's Wild Kingdom living under there (not to be confused with Heather's Adventure Kingdom, which still has no visitors...in case you were wondering).
Brother was proud of Hank. Sam's getting a complex because he's the only dog to have no managed to catch anything. That's okay. I think Sam is gay. But that's okay. I'll love him no matter what he decides to hump.
My computer is diving further into the land of Suckville. It crashes more times than Lindsay Lohan. I really need to invest in another computer, but I hate parting with money, unless it involves me being in the Caribbean.
Incidentally, my next cruise is coming up. I've got my air, my rental car, my cabin assignment. I still need to find a hotel. I need this vacation.
I really, REALLY need this vacation.