Thursday, December 10, 2009

Are there any Dog Whisperers out there that work for FREE....or for BEER...or for a 2-second boobie flash?

Harley is close to being the best dog in the whole wide world. The thing that keeps her from going straight to the top is the fact that she is terrified of Hubber....one of the kindest, most gentlest hubbers in existence today. Now, let me qualify Hubber's upstanding character traits by stating that he loves dogs possibly more than I do...if that IS possible...and it is, because, duh, I just said it was. So, basically, he's a dog smooching, belly rubbing, ear scratching kind of guy. But to Harley, he smells like evil. She doesn't trust the guy as far as she can throw him...and she has no hands, so you can imagine that she wouldn't be able to throw him very far. She's been a part of our family for an ENTIRE YEAR y'all....and she still hasn't gotten over this totally unfounded fear she has of him. He is to Harley as Freddie Krueger is to me. No exaggeration.

So, the other day, whilst piddling around outside getting all the bling on the house for the neighborhood Christmas decorating contest...which, sidenote: I am determined to win...even if it requires walking around the neighborhood with a baseball bat and a pocket knife to give me some leverage. So, we're decorating, right? And Harley, being the totally awesome dog that she is, was hanging out, sniffing around for squirrels to terrorize and looking all cute and adorable. When BAM, Hubber jumps out from behind a tree and screams "BOO!" and freaks the shit out of her. Or, he mighta just been walking gingerly down the driveway saying "hey Harley, what's shakin'?" But, either way, he sent that scaredy dog into a freaking tailspin! She bolted, tail between her legs, straight towards me, because, hello, I'm her mamma and I'm here on earth for the sole purpose of saving her ass from evil things, and for feeding her. But, I wasn't prepared for said bolting and she pounded into my legs and sent me, arms flailing with bling flying outta them, right into my car (Bubba - who is dressed like Rudolph for the season). Needless to say, I now have a very large bruise on my leg. Which makes wearing mini dresses out of the question. Unless I want to explain how, really, my Hubber doesn't kick my ass on a daily basis, but that I have a huge dog who thinks Hubber is the devil incarnate and takes off like a bolt of lightening every time he comes within 10 feet of her and will take down anything (or anyone) in her path as she's getting the hell out of dodge. So, then, people will think my Hubber really IS evil and that he beats me and that I use the dog as an excuse like some battered women use the stairs or door knobs.

So, basically, what I'm getting at here, is that I am in desperate need of a dog whisperer before Hubber gets carted off to prison for beating the shit out of me. I don't think he'd survive long in prison...he's too damn cute...and he has big hands and small-ish feet....and a juicy booty. I don't have money to spend on a dog whisperer, but I have booze...and boobies...and bling left over from the Christmas decorations. HEY! A fucking lightbulb just went off in my head! Maybe I should go on craigslist and do some bartering! I will probably have to take the "boobies" off the table, though, because, seriously y'all, there are some straight-up freaks out there on the internets.

No comments:

Post a Comment