Thief
Hey. So, it’s been like a year since I last posted. If you’re one of the three people following me (Hi Jason! Hey Lorna! What’s up, LenaLoo??!?!), I adore each and every one of you, though I may not have had the chance to tell you before. (Yeah, sorry Lena. I’m a terrible person.)
The worst part, though? Because, I KNOW there are at least TWO other people who read this thing (Hey Dad! Hi Chris!), is that no one, not ONE of you, has been all, ‘wtf??? WHERE is Beth?’. But that’s OK. *sniff* I’m fine. I’ve just been busy. Plus, no magical genie has decided to grant me a laptop yet, so… *sigh*. It’s all good.
***
Now, here’s what I have to say today.
You guys know that I have dogs, right? Two of them:
That’s Jaro (uh, ‘Thor’s Mount Kilimanjaro’, if you’re pretentious. Or if you are trying to be pretentious… like, um. Me.) on the left and Big (yeah… ‘Mount Kilimanjaro’s Big Thunder Mountain’, to be more precise.)(Yes. I Am That Ridiculous.) on the right. Jaro is a St. Bernard, and Big is his son.
Big is also a Thief. To properly understand Big, though, you have to know a bit about his MOTHER.
Big’s mother was Juno, a dog I will see in hell. I will go to hell (in part, anyway. Unfortunately, this is not the ONLY thing on my list of transgressions. I am not even exaggerating.) because of the bad decisions I made for her, and because of the decisions I did not make on her part.
I let her get pregnant. By Jaro. Before she was even a year old. I have reasons… nay; excuses to why I let this happen, and I am not proud of any of them. So, I’m sorry, Juno. For real. My bad.
We found her a good home, I swear. Through a rescue organization and everything.
Now, the reason why I will SEE Juno in hell? Because, my friends… she was BAD.
Yes, I take full responsibility for this. Yes. And. I had a three month old baby. And. I live in Washington State, where it rains quite… often. And. I am lazy. And. I am irresponsible.
But still, even considering all of this, Juno was BAD.
She was sneaky and stealthy and waaaaaay too freakin‘ smart for her own good. Her mother was a (I kid you not) three legged, mostly German Shepherd bitch on her like, fifth litter, who lived in the ghetto of Seattle. If you can even call any part of Seattle a ghetto after living in East L.A…. but, whatever.
I’m pretty sure that her dad was at least mostly Border Collie, because, like I said, she was SMART.
She could get up on our counter top silently and eat WHATEVER was up there. Loaves of bread, your dinner that you put down just for a second to run to the restroom and the REST of the family was sitting right there. She could hop up on our tall, bar-height chairs like a cat, and clean your plate without even moving your fork.
She could be outside in the most beautiful, Pacific Northwestern day…like seventy-five degrees, skies so blue they hurt your eyes…and stand outside my bedroom window while I tried to get my VERY high-need, VERY sensitive-to-noise, infant to sleep and bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! Just so I would finally give in and let her inside. Where she would eat whatever was on the counter and poop or pee on the carpet and chew baby toys and then finally… my husbands shoes.
My husband is not a fancy guy by any means. Mostly, he wears sweats or jeans and a T-shirt and tennies or slippers. But the guy’s got style when he wants to. And so owns three (well, two now…) pairs of expensive (like four-hundred-dollar expensive), totally rad, shoes.
Juno ate a pair of his Spectator’s. And then, she ate an at-least-two-hundred-dollar Stetson bowler hat of a house guest of ours.
Then I found her a good home.
***
Now, Big is naughty. Not really bad, just… naughty. And one of the naughty things he does is STEAL. See this?
This is not my mop. I’ve never even seen this mop before it showed up in my front yard.
And this?
That’s a safety cone. And see how he’s chewed the rubber off of the bottom? Why? I live in the COUNTRY. There are sticks and deliciousness EVERYWHERE. Where did he even GET this thing??
Or this:
Peggy? I have your sign. I’m sorry.
He’s just naughty. I can see the (angelic, perfect) genes of my Jaro in there at war with his inner Juno-ness. See?
He’s a naughty, naughty boy. And we love him so, so much.
And this? This means all is forgiven. Because babies ARE delicious, you know.
Plus? They’re both neutered now. So there!
****updated! I utilized spell check, thank you very much. Wow. Turns out I can’t spell. And I especially can’t spell when I’m blogging late at night. Sorry!****