The stupid dogs ran off into the woods today and came back with a miasma that can only be described as disturbing. I don’t know why those assholes do it, they’re miserable afterward, rolling around, trying to rub dead-thing-funk off themselves on to the grass. It’s so gross and I’m so over it.
The cat killed a vole and proceeded to lay all over it to taunt the other cats. He flaunted tiny bits of dead animal on to the stairwell, rubbing lovingly against the bloody little body. The stairwell is his flaunting platform, they don’t go outside – there are coyotes. The other cats sit at the bottom of the stairs and stare balefully at him while he ever so slowly loooves the carcass. I feel fairly certain if a blind rat can get inside, we don’t stand a chance against coyotes, I may as well let the cats out.
I’m concerned this animal doesn’t kill normal things, like mice. He’s killed two bats and a vole. What I should really be concerned about it why the hell there are bats and voles inside our house. It’s like he knows they can’t see and lures them to their death. He’s the serial killer who only kills blind girls. It creeps me the fuck out.
I have absolutely no idea why anyone has pets. It’s like we’re brainwashed by a power we’re unable to resist. We kept an animal for seven years who probably pissed on something that belonged to us every single day of the seven years. The only reason we had him put down is because he tried to eat my face off. That’s an automatic fail at our house. Once a big dog lunges at your face, it’s too far gone. Do yourself a favor and have them put down.
Pets are the only entity who can force a normal sized person into a six square inch corner on a king-sized mattress. I’d never allow my spouse to do that, but the two cats and dogs can hog around on the bed all they want without protest. At least the ridiculous amounts of hot-ass animal breath keep us warm in the winter. It’s like a freaking stinky terrarium in the summer, moss grows on the walls, and we put up with it.
We’re devoted to these creatures, we feel an obligation to them, even if they are complete assholes. My grandmother had back to back poodles that every single person on this earth hated, except her. That’s about thirty years worth of nasty poodle. Seriously, why the fuck?
The animals we’ve had over our married life have probably cost us a collective 20k in property damage. I have walked into some of the most horrific scenes imaginable involving dogs and chewed up shit. We continue to keep them, and be devoted to them.
Probably because there’s nothing better than coming home after a long time out and being greeted by a big, stupid, non-judgmental, loving face. When you get pissed off and your dog furs up and stands at attention beside you, even though he falls back asleep in about two minutes because he’s old, it’s awesome knowing he had your back for two minutes. Dogs are necessary for a calm and balanced life. They teach people without children how assy children can be. They teach those of us with children patience so we don’t beat our assy children.
On the other hand, I’m pretty sure that cats are from the Devil and put on this Earth to scare us into submission before the aliens land.