Jan. 9th, 2015

... yeah.

Jan. 9th, 2015 11:08 am
windtear: (The Interpretive Dance of Extreme Stabbi)
You know, I grew up with dogs. I thought I liked dogs. Not as much as I like cats, but surely canines were cool.

Either my parents were extremely good at picking pets, magnificent at training them, or this dog is just that irritating.

He stinks (which is, okay, not his fault, but still). Bathing doesn't help because it's from him farting all the time. (We're not sure what he ate before but his body clearly is taking time to adjust to switching to an all-dry-dogfood diet. Which is what his previous owners claim they gave him.)
He demands attention all the time (again, this is a doggy trait but there's a reason why the experts recommend getting two dogs if you're going to be out a lot). I don't like this but I can cope.
He has eaten one of my favourite bone-coloured heels (I LIKED those shoes!) that he stole out of the shoe rack.
And this morning he took off the coffee table and destroyed (as in, there are now holes in it) a library book. (Specifically, Battle Magic by Tamora Pierce.) Which occurred in the thirty seconds between me seeing what he was doing and managing to get it off him.

Even the most demanding kitten I ever met didn't destroy books.

No, I do not like my brother's dog at all.


windtear: Paper-doll style self-portrait (Default)

January 2015

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