My Crazy Life: Ridiculous Edition

I feel like laughing tonight. How bout you? I was sitting here earlier... thinking about all of the chaos in my rescue life… there’s A LOT of it. I can let it bring me down, or I can let it lift me up. Most days, I hover somewhere in the middle… just making it.
But tonight, I feel like laughing about all of it.

I think if most “normal” people signed up to spend a day in my life, within the first hour... they’d be screaming, “How the mother **** do I get out of here?!” This isn’t a “normal” life. When you take-in as many rescue dogs as I do... crazy things are bound to happen. When you add in the ridiculous people we're forced to deal with… things get… interesting.

Let’s talk dogs. If you’ve ever talked to me on the phone, chances are I asked you to hold on for a second while I did this-or-that for the dogs. The dogs come first with me.

It’s also highly-likely that you heard me say a cuss word or two about something that happened while I was on the phone with you. My buddy, Chris, can attest to this.

Me: “[Cuss word!!!]”

Chris: ‘What happened??’

Me: “I turned my back & Darla ate my [really-bad-word] flip flop.”

Chris: ‘She chewed it up, huh?’

Me: “No. She [bleeping] ate it. I can’t find it anywhere. My entire [filthy-unladylike-word] flip flop is in her stomach!”

Hmm... I don’t know if we should start with the fact that I’m wearing flip flops in February.. or the foster dog’s chewing problem.. or my potty mouth. They're all equally ridiculous topics. And really... I have no good excuse for any of them. Well... maybe the cussing. Let’s be honest, it’s [yep-I-use-words-like-that-word] fun to cuss. And frankly, it keeps people from murdering others... so it's good.

Back to the chaos… the other day I had my Meridian Star newspaper article sitting on the coffee table. I walked outside, walked back in, and it looked like a damn Newspaper Pride Parade had come through the room... tossing out buckets of shredded-news confetti.
Wow. Nice job, pup. This looks like the work of a professional… You’re hired.

There was the time I left an unopened jar of peanut butter on the counter. I ran an errand, came back, & my foster dog had unscrewed the screw-on top, torn through the protective seal (quite neatly, I might add), and licked every bit of peanut butter out of the jar. It actually looked like the jar had been run through the dishwasher. Now, that’s impressive. I later had him do the dishes.

Then, I have my escape artist pup. One day, I put him in his crate & left the house. I came home to find him waiting for me by the door, with a smile on his face. What in the [my-mother-would-be-so-proud-word!] did you do, son?! So I go to his crate, & it’s still in one piece... with the door shut & latched. I shook the crate… tried to pry the sides off… no dice. I still to this day have no freaking idea how the hell he did it.
I did, however, raise his allowance.

Even still... these foster dogs bring more joy to my life than I can even explain in words. Every day, they love me unconditionally, for everything I am… everything I’m not… and for all I've done for them. But my saving them... could never compare to what they do for me. They make me laugh, all day, every day. They lick my tears when I cry. They lay by my side & say, “Mom, I love you. Thank you for saving my life.”

And they give back to me… by showing me that messiness will not be tolerated in this freaking household. It will be punished by us chewing up all of your crap, Mom.

I love them for that. PS- Lucy is feeling better now, and she's actually chewing on the coffee table as we speak. She moved to the table... after I corrected her... from gnawing on the couch. Good girl, Lucy.

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