Tuesday, November 8, 2016

40 Weeks

Dear Psycho Baby Child,

Every week you seem to discover a new way to completely exhaust and aggravate the rest of us.

Your daddy things you are good as gold and can do no wrong.

He only sees you at the end of the day, when you are TIRED thanks to my efforts to wrangle you into a decent representation of the canine race

All.

Day.

Long.

Plus, he decided (again) that you needed to be eating more.

Excuse me while I put my head through a wall.

The two days of mist/drizzle, followed by a day of overcast, damp and chilly were  very much a struggle- for all of us.

Even now that the weather is nice again and you can spend most of the day playing outside doesn't really help.

Going outside to pick up all poop prior to letting you out doesn't really help.

Between the obsessive squirrel-chasing, the obsessive racing around the yard, nose to the ground, sniffing out phantom poop (because I already snatched it up), and the obsessive whining at the dog next door/pestering your sisters in the canine form of "I'm touching you. I'm touching youuuuu!"-

I'm fed up.

The excitement is uncontrollable.

There has been much yelling (and it has been discovered that yelling causes you to shut down, rather than cooperate, so... that's out).

God, I wish we could neuter you. That would solve so much.

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