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Archive for the ‘dogs’ Category

I have been dog sitting for my parents for the past week.  Bo and Bella are kind of ridiculous dogs, but I love them and they have been trying to be cooperative, but mother nature has been making this very difficult. 

I went to sleep early on Monday night, and Briscoe was upstairs with me.  Bo and Bella were downstairs in the kitchen.  All the sudden I hear a CRASH!  It sounded like the baby gate we use to keep the dogs in the kitchen had fallen down.  This happens on occassion and isn’t a big deal, since the dogs are deathy afraid of the gate and won’t climb over it.  The concerning part, was that there continued to be crashing and noise from downstairs.  Not in the kitchen.  When meant, something other than the two dogs I’d left downstairs was presently enjoying the classic decor of the living room. 

I called Travers, he said he’d be right there.  I called Matt, cause he was in the cottage, and he came over to help.  Briscoe was freaking out.  She ran into the living room and I watched in horror as she chased a squirrel up the plaster wall and onto the window scounce. 

Can you see his arm and leg?

Can you see his arm and leg?

Matt got close to the window, and the damn thing fell, bounced on his back on the table, leapt onto the piano, almost knocked over every breakable object in the house before hiding behind the china cabinet.  Smart animal.  Too heavy to move, too fragile to try. 

The dogs were so traumatized.  I had to physically carry Bella into the house and drag her into the kitchen.  She knew the squirrel was still there.  She knew.  Well, two days later, after chewing through a couple of electrical and cable cords, setting the alarm off and otherwise terrorizing the dogs, I came downstairs yesterday morning to find a dead squirrel on the rug in the living room.  Sweet.  Dead things.  Well, we all know I can’t pick up the squirrel or go near it, since the last time I tried to pick up a dead squirrel he wasn’t dead and bit me. 

The dogs had had enough of me forcing them to hang out inside with a squirrel, and flat refused to come inside yesterday morning, so I left them outside.  I put water under the house and made sure they couldn’t get out anywhere.  And I found the biggest spider I’ve ever seen.  bananaspiderI freaked out, got in touch with Josh (Josh is a professor and has his phd in forestry bugs – I saw his dissertation, the man knows his bugs), and anxiously awaited his instructions.  Josh said she won’t hurt me, that it’s what they call a banana spider, they are quite common and spin really pretty webs which they use to catch beetles (read – roaches) and mosquitoes.  He further recommended that I grab a few beetles and throw them in her nest, because she will attack them and spin them into a cocoon before she eats them and that it is “neat” to watch (his words, not mine).  Sweet.  It really made me miss him.  I told Josh I appreciated his expert opinion but that I would not be throwing any beetles anywhere.  I am really pumped that she eats mosquitoes and roaches, so I’ve decided to keep her as a pet.  I’ve named her Hermione and she has been watching the dogs for me while I’ve been at work.  She is the size of my fist and I swear I can lean on her web without it breaking.  It’s like fishing line. 

My life is so national geographic.   

Other happening of note, we had a successful last minute cook out last night, with lots of tomatoes, cheese, beer, hamburgers, chicken, and french fries.  It was a victory of effortless entertaining, low stress, high enjoyment, everyone left happy and full.   Thanks to Kate and Trav for going out of town. 

I have woken up the past few mornings to a chill in the air, which has made my coffee taste better and my over all personal happiness level improve.  My imagination immediately transports me to a morning where I am getting ready to get into a car to drive to Athens for a football game, instead of driving to the office.  Of course in that scenario I would be drinking a cold beer instead of hot coffee. 

But you know what today is don’t you?  GAME DAY!  I want everyone to be watching football tonight.  I hope that everyone has been watching the HBO series Hard Knocks, which is a reality show about the Cincinnati Bengal’s training camp.  I get really sad when anyone gets cut, it’s so depressing for the players to be woken up at 5 am and sent home.  But I really really really love Chad Ocho Cinco.  Love.  Child Please.  I could say it all day long.  Child.  Please.  child.  PLEASE.  child…please.  CHILD please. 

And I know I’m never suppose to say such a thing, but I’m going to say this once and only once.  This is for Ike and Peter and Matt and Claire and Darius (I love your music Darius).  Ahem.  Um.  Give me a second.  Deep Breathes.  DEEP.  Okay.  Here goes.  go cocks!

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I obviously have some authority issues.  As a child, adults didn’t really love me.  Part of this was that I was the most hyperactive child in America (so no one ever let me baby sit growing up), and I thought a lot.  One time when I was 4 I told my mom we needed to stop eating cookies because we were going to be sick if we ate the whole bag.  Wow.  When your 4 year old tells to stop eating cookies because you will end up sick, it’s a bad day.  I’ll also never understand why my elementary school made me sit on the curb during recess to punish me for not being able to sit still during class.  You would think they would have made me run laps instead. 

Well, regardless, I’m not around children a lot, and the children I am around are babies.  Now, when you get children that are a little older, you know the ones who are mobile and talk, part of me has a hard time not associating them with puppies, mostly because a lot of people talk to their kids like I talk to my dog.  Sit.  No.  Stop.  Come here. COME HERE RIGHT NOW!  I’m going to put you in time out.  STOP.  RIGHT NOW! 

When I can get over the fact that they aren’t puppies, I immediately revert to being a child myself and I want to tell them things I shouldn’t.  Like smart come backs to every day comments people make.  (That’s not funny.  It’s hilarious!)  I also have no idea what I’m not suppose to do around them.  I’m the person that gave you kid nine sugar cookies at the luncheon the other day.  Oh, he’s not suppose to have nine cookies?  He already had seven?  Oh, I didn’t know that, he left that part out.  He asked me for them so politely.  He’s not allowed to have Dr. Pepper either?  But he asked for it!  (this goes back to dogs, I don’t like it when people feed my dog people food, and I guess I should be more aware that people probably feel that way about their children, but I think of them as little people).  Part of this is that I want the kids to like me, and I don’t want to be the authority. 

The only way I know how to make kids act right is to play upon their need for acceptance and tell them that what they are doing isn’t cool and that cool people have more friends.  Like, it’s totally not cool to throw sand in your cousin’s eye.  I would think you were cooler if you didn’t do mean things like throw sand in people’s faces.  I’m sure there are much better techniques for getting children to act right.  I haven’t learned them yet. 

I like kids.  I really do.  And for the most part, kids tend to like me.  I think.

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This has been a very interesting week.  In some ways, I have finally been able to settle back down into a schedule and get my life together.  There is still a lot of stuff that needs to be done at my house, but my second roommate Erin is moving in this weekend, and this is pushing me to get a lot of things sorted out now.  There is always something else that needs fixing.  Luckily, I have some really awesome people in my life.   

Last week I mentioned to Justin that I needed to borrow his lawnmower to cut my grass.  Brice let me borrow his lawnmower last time, but the Wright family was out of town and my lawn was really starting to thrive.  When I came home from work on Thursday, sweet Justin was at my house and had just finished mowing the lawn and edging and was about to roundup the walkway.  It was super, super nice of him. 

The rest of this story is pretty funny, so try to stay with me.  Libby was in town, so we went to the Thirsty Thursday baseball game and ended up coming back and sitting on the front porch for a little while before going to sleep.  Libby slept in the guest room downstairs, and was driving her dad’s car.  Libby would have normally stayed at her parents house, but she wanted to wake up and do P90X with Sara and Kirby on Friday morning at the crack of dawn (because they are XTREME) and Bryan’s flight got into the airport at like 8. 

Natalie was out on a narcotics raid in Harrisburg (I know that sounds hilarious, but she’s an ADA, and anyway, apparently it’s really fun to go on narcotic raids), so she didn’t get home until after we went to sleep.  I guess I had neglected to tell her that Libby might spend the night.  So I wake up in the morning and I have a text from natalie from 1 am that says, THERE IS SOMEONE IN OUR HOUSE.  And then by the time Natalie woke up on friday, Libby was already gone.  I felt really bad that I might have scared Natalie, but she swears she wasn’t freaked out, and once she saw libby’s toothbrush in the bathroom she figured it was okay. 

Ultimately the weirdest thing that has happened this week is that it has been cool outside.  Last night we went to dinner after tennis, and we left dinner, we were all cold.  Granted, we all had on our ridiculous looking tennis outfits, but still.  In Augusta, in July, you should be able to be in a bathing suit at any hour of the night and day and not be cold.  A wet bathing suit at that.  Normally it’s 90 degrees at midnight.  Recently, it hasn’t reached 90 degrees at 3 pm. 

Speaking of tennis, I’ve decided one of my favorite things about tennis is the fact that you get to wear ridiculous outfits that would be inappropriate anywhere else but are totally appropriate on the tennis court.  It is amazing how much I enjoy wearing tennis skirts.  My tennis shoes are a little clunky, but what can you do. 

The biggest problem of my life right now is that I can’t get up in the morning.  I would happily go to sleep at 9:30 at night if it meant I could wake up refreshed at 6:30.  But I can’t go to sleep at 9:30.  My body won’t let me.  And forget getting up at 6:30, I can barely drag myself out of bed at 7:30.  I  don’t lack will power in any other part of my life, I have a good bit of self control, and I work hard at life.  But I CAN NOT GET OUT OF BED.  It is a real problem.  My body wants to sleep from 2 am to 10 am, and not from 11 to 7.  Sigh.  Oh well.  I think I’ve been working out too late at night. 

Briscoe got her hair all shaved off last week, and she looks like a little lamb.  She also looks kind of fat.  It’s impossible to tell when she has long hair, but when she gets her hair all cut off, she seems to become a little self conscious of her figure.  Natalie made up a new song for Briscoe’s hair cut.  It goes something like this –

Bobby had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Bobby had a little lamb who’s puffy, fluffy and white!

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Is the Palmetto Bug.  A.K.A. The Flying Roach. 

I can deal with a whole lot of things, and flying roaches are not on that list.  They make me die a little inside every time one gets close to me.  Which is unfortunate, since I come in close contact with them on a regular basis these days.  I have the Orkin man on speed dial and he told me today that it was a battle we were going to have to fight together.  They live outside, these are not the sort of roaches that inhabit the inside of your walls.  These are the kind of roaches who might fly off with your dog if you leave her in the backyard for too long. 

Although, I do have to say that these roaches have nothing on this sucker that lives in maggie’s parents pond.  I swear to the heat of the South Georgia summer that thing in the water is a giant catfish.  Who Maggie swears wants to eat her dog. 

This train of thought is going to spin off in two different directions – one – animals around here that want to eat your dog – over in Aiken they have collected 7 monster pythons – man-eating pythons as they are called – and placed them in a big pit to see how they survive.  Sweet.  This sounds like a HORRIBLE experiment.  Apparently a bunch of pet shops carried these man eating pythons in Florida back in the ’90s and a lot of the snakes escaped in the destruction of Hurricane Andrew.   (side note – Florida is like another country.  When you enter Florida on I-95 the big trucks have to go through a customs like check point.  How weird is that?)

A direct quote from the article –

While pythons don’t make a habit of attacking people and most aren’t large enough to eat a person, Gibbons called the possibility a “nightmare.”

“What about the first kitty cat they eat? Or the first little poodle? They’d love poodles, I imagine,” he said.

Mike Dorcas, a professor at Davidson College in North Carolina, has sliced open pythons in Florida to find the remains of white-tailed deer, bobcats and large birds.

Then this last part – 

Pythons are masters of disguise — slippery and quick — and all but one of the serpents was invisible within minutes of being deposited into the pit.

So counting pythons in the wild is a daunting task. Scientists don’t have an accurate estimate of how many pythons are in Florida.

“It’s certainly in the thousands, or tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands,” said Gibbons. 

The other train of thought is the safety of the fish you catch in the Central Savannah River Area.  I thought it was interesting that the parts of the river that do have advisories say – one meal per week.  Is that one fish per week?  Because, my meal is not the same as some other people’s meal.  Some people could eat four fish. 

So, we do a lot of quiet title actions around here, which is how you clear title to a piece of property that has been sold at a sheriff’s sale when the property taxes haven’t been paid.  Although quiet title actions do not normally involve any particularly complicated legal principles, the difficulty lies in finding all the people who have ever had a claim of title to the property and serving them, which often time includes adjacent land owners or the heirs of an estate.  Which means I spend a lot of time trying to find people and figuring out how to serve them in Jamaica, New York, or Erie, Indiana, or, as the case was today – Denver, Colorado. 

The process server I found in Denver is a fleet of bike couriers.  How cool is that?  This time my petition to quiet title is going to be delivered by bike!  This really made my day.  And the guy I talked to on the phone was so nice and friendly and it made me really wish I was in Colorado.  I got really Colorado Home Sick.  Or maybe I’m just, IT IS REALLY HOT HERE SICK. 

Last night at tennis clinic I got to play singles with Jane.  AGGHH.  I LOVE singles.  I love singles so much more than doubles.  In doubles I feel like I’m in the way, or the wrong place, or I should have made that shot because I’m letting my partner down.  In singles, I know where I’m suppose to be the whole time.  Maybe I’m not always there, but the knowing is much more instinctive.  It’s been so much fun getting back into a sport.  I haven’t played a game in a really long time and I didn’t even know how much I missed it. 

Briscoe has been sleeping in the new big bed with me recently and every morning I wake up I feel the need to grab her toe and sing to her about catching a tiger by the toe.  She fails to see the humor and normally either tries to bite me or kick me.

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Y’all would not believe the weather around here (unless of course you live here and have been experiencing it with me).  It has been COLD this week.  COLD!  In MAY!   The May I was in Grand Lake it snowed half a foot on May 23, and I literally thought I was going to die.  I love snow, it’s really neat.  But I was living in a shack/cabin in the middle of the woods at 9,000 feet, and my hot water didn’t work.  The fact that it was snowing outside made this experience a little more “complete”, but not a lot more enjoyable.  My alarm clock had a thermometer on it, and I would wake up in the morning to a frozen nose, look at the little digital face and read – 39 degrees, realize I had to get out from underneath the covers and take a cold shower, and sort of want to cry.  But the view was sort of worth it.  Eventually they fixed my hot water and the snow melted and the temperature rose above 50 degrees in the daylight hours.  But not before I got lost on a ten mile hike in the snow in the dark with people I barely knew.  Ahh, memories.  I was so trusting back then.  Wanna go on a hike in the woods in the gathering dark with us?  Sure it’s starting to snow, but, it will be fine!  Don’t be a wuss Georgia. 

But anyway, May is suppose to mean HOT.  And I can’t talk about being in Colorado all summer because having a real job makes that sort of thing a lot more difficult. 

I was so productive on Sunday, got my life together for the week, laundry, grocery, cooked some food, cleaned my house, went to the movies.  Natalie and Bucket moved in!  Hooray!

Then Monday night I discovered that the large bottle of Palmolive under my sink had been turned over and spilled.  I pulled everything from under the sink and cleaned it all up.  Soap is surprisingly difficult to clean up.  Well, I didn’t get all the soap out from under my finger nails, and I put my finger in my eye, and I got soap ALL IN MY EYE.  AGGGHHHH.  It freaking hurt like the devil.  I flushed my eye with water for what seemed like forever.  Still didn’t get it all.  I HATE flushing my eye out with water.  It hurt almost as much as the soap.  I’m a MORON.  A moron.  Just when I was starting to feel like I had my life together. 

Last night Travers stole some wood from Kate and Trav and we had a little fire in my little fire pit in the back yard.  It was nice, although the wind was gusting (I love the word GUST) and every once in a while you would feel like the fire just might get you.  When Briscoe and I were about to go to sleep last night I kissed her on the nose and realized that all her fur smelled like smoke.  So hilarious.  Bucket’s fur also smelled like smoke.  I’m going to start calling them Smokey and the Bandit.  Their current alter egos are Biscuit and Bobby, to which they are starting to respond. 

I had a magistrate court trial yesterday, and although I think I got my point across well, I laid in bed last night and thought of all the small procedural mistakes I made.  The defendant was pro se, and I almost felt like how when you play a sport against someone who sucks – like tennis – you play like crap, but if you play against someone better than you – you play up to their level.  I feel like I played down to this guy’s level.  Hopefully I’m learning. 

I was driving my car at lunch and I was for some reason dumb struck by how cool driving a car is.  You’ve got this wheel, and you can spin it around, and when you spin it around, the ENTIRE SUPER HEAVY car moves.  At the flick of your wrist.  How cool is that?  It’s amazing how I drive a car every day and never think about how awesome driving can be. 

I made Kate (the runner) cupcakes last night because it is her birthday.  And I BURNED them.  I’m so embarrassed and horrified.  I really never burn things.  Ever.  Not baked goods at least.  I guess I haven’t ever baked in my new gas oven before.  It was really hard.  I’m concerned.  Not only did they burn, it was just the bottom of them.  Ugh.  I’m going to have to practice practice practice and get better before Christmas rolls around.  Britt’s mom has promised to teach me how to make cinnamon buns this Christmas, btw.    

It has been such a pretty day.  I hope it doesn’t cloud up before I can go home!  I want to go play outside.

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Foggy Muddy Pawprints

Yesterday was something of a disaster.  My flight got in from New York late Sunday night, and I was exhausted when I woke up Monday morning.  In order to stay in bed for three more minutes I checked out the weather on my phone.  The weather channel said it was FOGGY, but only a 10% chance of rain.  I assumed this meant it was going to be foggy in the morning and clear up later, and it wasn’t going to rain. 

I was in a huge rush, and the dogs were being absolutely ridiculous in the backyard, so I threw them both a rawhide, put their water outside, and left them in the fog. 

Work was a little hectic, and I was busy, so I didn’t really think much about what was going on outside, other than to observe that it was still foggy.  Around 11:45 I checked the weather again, and it said – Light Rain.  And I got a little concerned. 

I looked out the window, and realized that although the rain was very light, it had been falling for a long time.  Which meant the dogs had been playing in the rain for hours.  Um.  I’m an idiot. 

I rushed home, to find two very wet, very muddy, VERY happy puppies.  Briscoe was a dark brown color and the white parts of Grayson were no longer visible.  And they were SOAKING.  I changed out of my work clothes, dragged them both through the house to my bathroom as quickly as possible, and gave them both a bath.  They both have winter haircuts, which basically means they have four to five times more hair now than they do in the summer.  It is amazing how much water their coats can hold.  And every bit of it was sopping with dirt.  It was a river of mud in the bathtub, and they were both ticked that I cut short their fun play time to give them the dreaded bath. 

After the baths, I had to wash the seventeen towels that were necessary in this task, and scrub muddy puppy paw prints off the floor of the kitchen and the rest of the house.  If you don’t wash dogs, you might not know this, but leaning over to wash two dogs does something painful to my hamstrings, and causes them to tremble, for hours.   I threw my work clothes back and rushed back to work.  Needless to say my hair left something to be desired on a professional standard yesterday afternoon. 

Since this was not the relaxing lunch I had been looking forward to, the rest of my afternoon was a blur.  I guess you could say a Foggy blur.  Cause, it’s still foggy, even today. 

But I did go to the trouble to go to the grocery so I could make soup last night.  Soup is awesome, cause you cook everything in the same pot and then put that pot in the fridge, and there is nothing to wash!  I can’t tell you how happy I was to sit on the couch last night with a glass of red wine  and two clean puppies, while my soup simmered and I watched all the television my DVR had saved for me.  It almost made me appreciate the almost disastrous day.  As I scratched Grayson’s ear, I realized he was still wet from his bath, but I let him stay on the couch anyway. 

Sigh.  And now it’s Tuesday.

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Consumer Demand

We have a huge glass cookie jar where we keep the milkbones.  I like to keep it sort of full, because it looks silly with only a handful of milkbones.  When it is full it looks pretty – so I normally buy those big boxes of milkbones.   (btw – target sells milkbones at half the price of petsmart). 

This weekend I was pouring the big box into the glass jar, and I noticed that the milkbone colors were different.  There was no green milkbone!  Now, I've always seriously questioned the reasoning behind having a green milkbone in general, since I'm pretty sure I'm never had a dog who loved vegetables.  I wouldn't want a vegetable cookie as a treat, and I sort of doubt Briscoe would either.   She's never complained, but I always feel a little guilty when I give one dog a sausage milkbone and the other dog a vegetable milkbone. 

Well, I don't have to feel guilty anymore!  Right on the milkbone box it said – TWO NEW MEATY FLAVORS!  I guess the dogs of the world have spoken and have risen up to demand meaty treats over vegetable treats.  I don't blame them. 

But the green milkbones did give a color contrast to the glass jar that I'm going to miss. 

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Ahh, Miscellaneous.  I’ll never learn how to spell that word without spell check.  The same way I will ALWAYS be confused about Affect and Effect.  I know it isn’t difficult, I know it should be simple and I’m entirely too educated to not know the difference.  Back off, maybe I have mild brain damage. 

So, just thought I would share a few things with y’all.  I recently purchased the Colbie Caillat CD, and I highly recommend it.  It is definitely girl music, but it is upbeat and soothing, sort of something you can tune out, but good lyrics too.  I like it. My favorites are Oxygen and Midnight Bottle. 

I also recently purchased the Luke Bryan CD – he is from Albany, Ga, and is fun.  He wrote Billy Currington’s song – Good Directions, and I think this is his first CD.  It makes me happy.  My favorite songs are We Rode in Trucks and You Make Me Want To.   

Travers says I listen to terrible music.  Who asked him anyway?

I’ve recently found a few new websites that I like a lot –

The Pasty Quail – this is site run by a few law students at UGA.  Lots of interesting articles and outside links with blurbs.  I was thoroughly entertained. 

Walking to the Shops Damages the Planet More than Going by Car – I love this article.  Honestly – I’m all about the environment, I really am, but most people don’t even think through the real impact of their actions – and what might seem "good" is sometimes "bad", or, simply, "not good". 

Binge Drinking is Good For You – I just thought this article was hilarious.  I mean – it doesn’t have a real serious point, but it made me laugh.  I like columnists.  Especially British ones.

Oh, and speaking of substance abuse – if it ever comes down to it – please send me to this Rehab.  I feel at peace in the mountains.   

And last but not least – what I think of as the funniest SNL skit I’ve ever seen, starring Lindsey – who has been lucky enough to go to rehab at the Cirque Lodge –

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THe Orvis Dog Book

Orvis stores are fun.  Expensive, but fun.  My favorite part of the Orvis line are the products they offer to the four legged furry animals who often think they are human. Orvis thinks they might be part human too. 

You can get your dog a memory foam dog bedOr a memory foam lounger.  I want a memory foam mattress on my own bed, and until I get one, Briscoe will not be afforded such a luxury.  But looking through the dog catalog made me wish I was terribly rich and could shower my dog with all the best stuff.  Like the dog blanket that is perfect for protecting your beautiful leather couch.  Or the platform dog bed that lets your dog sleep right next to you in their own bed, so you can still be close without being crowded.

Actually, the more I think about – instead of being rich and being able to buy my dog the very best, I think I would like to be the dog of someone very rich who would buy me the very best.  I’m a great companion.  Very loyal.  Friendly.  Maybe in my next life. 

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How many dogs does it take to change a light bulb?

                   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1.
Golden Retriever: The sun is shining, the day is young, we’ve got our
whole lives ahead of us, and you’re inside worrying about a stupid
burned out bulb?
 

 

 

 

2. Border Collie: Just one. And then I’ll replace any wiring that’s not up to code.
 

 

 

3. Dachshund: You know I can’t reach that stupid lamp!
 

 

 

 

4. Rottweiler: Make me.
 

 

 

 

5. Boxer: Who cares? I can still play with my squeaky toys in the dark.
 

 

 

 

6.
Lab: Oh, me, me!!!!! Pleeeeeeeeeze let me change the light bulb! Can I?
Can I? Huh? Huh? Huh? Can I? Pleeeeeeeeeze, please, please, please!
 

 

 

 

7.
German Shepherd: I’ll change it as soon as I’ve led these people from
the dark, check to make sure I haven’t missed any, and make just one
more perimeter patrol to see that no one has tried to take advantage of
the situation.
 

 

 

 

8. Jack Russell Terrier:
I’ll just pop it in while I’m bouncing off the walls and furniture. 
(how true)! 
 

 

 

 

9. Old English Sheep Dog: Light bulb?
I’m sorry, but I don’t see a light bulb!
 

 

 

 

10. Cocker Spaniel: Why change it? I can still pee on the carpet in the dark. 
 

 

 

 

11. Chihuahua : Yo quiero Taco Bulb. Or "We don’t need no stinking light bulb."
 

 

 

 

12. Greyhound: It isn’t moving. Who cares?
 

 

 

 

13. Australian Shepherd: First, I’ll put all the light bulbs in a little circle…
 

 

 

14.
Poodle: I’ll just blow in the Border Collie’s ear and he’ll do it. By
the time he finishes rewiring the house, my nails will be dry.

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