Around the House,  Marriage Confessions,  The Dog Pound

My Dog Hates My Baby. So the Baby Must Go.

Poor Lucy.  Poor, poor little Lucy.  Since the Bean came along, her life of privilege has become a life of the very un-privileged.

She used to be able to sleep in our bed.  Now she can’t because the baby has turned sleep into a very precious commodity in this household and beds are for very special sleeping humans.  Lucy now has a pillow on the floor.

On the floor. Like an animal.

She used to be able to bark to her little peanut-sized heart’s content.  Now she can’t because she might wake the baby. And when that happens, the house goes into lock-down mode and anything that moves gets something thrown at it.

She used to get belly rubs whenever she wanted.  She’d roll onto her back, wiggle to get someone’s attention, and the bellyrubs cometh.  But now, the baby gets all the bellyrubs.  And the tickles.  And the treats.  And all the attention in the whole damn house.

What’s so good about the baby anyways?

He smells foul.  He spits.  He can’t get food into his mouth properly.  And he doesn’t even have the decency to pee outside.

Nope.  Not too many crayons in that box, if you ask Lucy.

Clearly, this is stressing Lucy out.

Its turning her beard gray.  And in Lucy’s world, gray hairs have no place on a lady’s muzzle.  This, combined with the fact that the baby is now quick enough to reach out and catch her if she happens to come too close, has royally pissed Lucy off.

Lucy thinks she should probably do something about the baby situation in her kingdom.

(yawn)

But that would require getting up off of this chair.  And that just isn’t in Lucy’s plans today.

So, maybe she’ll do something about the baby tomorrow.  Yeah.  Tomorrow is a good day for debabytizing her kingdom.

Oh, but tomorrow its supposed to snow.  And on snow days, Lucy has a very strict napping policy.

She’s for it.

Well, then maybe the baby situation can wait until the day after tomorrow.

Yeah.

That’s a better idea.

No sense in rushing the inevitable, after all.

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