Alright, it’s not that we haven’t already exceeded the limits of anthropomorphism with our dogs.
We talk to them.
We laugh at and with them as if we are jovial pals.
We teach them tricks.
We dress them up.
We give up sleep space to them.
We teach them how to sing.
We hide their presents before we wrap them so as not to “spoil” Christmas.
Like children, we rush them to the doctor for the slightest malady.
These are normal things to us dog lovers.
I bring this up because we are 9 days away from Easter Sunday, and ln our household, we are preparing for the Annual Diaz Family Easter Egg Challenge. The two entrants are Bruiser and his brother Murphy. They will compete to see which doggie can find the most plastic-eggs-with-stew-meat-chunks-inside and claim this year’s contest. I know you will be on pins and needles so I will post a little video of the highly anticipated competition for Monday’s blogpost after Easter.
Special scrutiny will be paid to Domestic Despot Osama bin KAREN at this year’s event. The Committee will be paying strict attention to ensure she does not offer any unfair advantages to Bruiser, such as steering or guiding him to an egg. These accusations hang like a rusty old guillotine over the frail neck of the DD.
Murphy just never got it about the whole Easter Egg hunt thing. His modus operandi is he finds one egg and spends the rest of the time basking in the glory of his find. He just doesn’t get the concept that there are more for him to discover.
Meanwhile, someone guides Bruiser to the locations of the remaining eggs. Hence the added scrutiny for this year’s Hunt.
Happens every year.
Murphy doesn’t give a shit.
He found an egg.
We bought the house we are currently living in and are now preparing to sell it. Karen has asked if we can move up our date to an August 1st departure.
Before, we predicated our departure on getting vaccinated. Since we have appointments scheduled for April 6th for our 2nd Pfizer shot, we figure we will be ready to go in four more months.
I would actually prefer to move in the fall, weather-wise.
But noooooo, the dog expert Karen who NEVER had a dog growing up says when we should leave because evidently she, and she alone knows.
I buy a Cocker Spaniel puppy which she stole from me thank you very much, and now it is in the clutches of the Dog Whisperer. She doesn’t know shit about dogs, but all of a sudden me, who grew up with dogs all the way into adult life is the one that needs to listen to her.
You can pretty much guess how that load of bullshit went over with me.
So in an effort to level the playing field this year, I am training Murphy to see if he will at least look for a second egg.
Keep you posted.