You Can’t Call Me S%#@ -Faced

Walking the dogs is just, well, walking the dogs, right?  Not at our house.  Here we have the Dog Walk, Walking the Dogs, and the Pearle-Is-Going Walk.  These are very different things.  Let me explain.

The Dog Walk is when one of two things happens.  Either Atticus goes with Mom or Atti and I go with Mom.  This is a real dog walk.  Over hill and dale, through thick and thin, weather be damned.  We are tough cookies, Atti and I.  This is the walk for the guys, and of course, Mom.  She’s kind of one of the guys, I guess. 

“Walking the dogs” is when both the peeps go with Atti and I (and sometimes Pearle-the-Puglike-Griff).  For some reason, these are usually shorter than the Dog Walk.  I think the energy of one peep must cancel out the energy of the other.  I’m not good at math, so maybe this isn’t what’s happening.  Maybe it’s Physics, Biochemistry, or Neuroscience?  Anyway, it happens. And it affects distance.

Now the last (and least) walk is the “Pearle-Is-Going” walk.  These are very trying times for the peeps.  See, Pearle is a poop eater.  And since she’s still working off the weight, she goes on a short walk around the horse pasture.  Put two and two together and you’ll get Pearle spending her entire walk snuffling out road apples like a pig going after truffles.  And she thinks they are as delicious as truffles.  A real delicacy.  Mom and Dad use every minute of the walk trying to keep her directed away from any stray horse poops.  But she’s GOOD!  With a nose worthy of a Bloodhound, Pearle always manages to find at least one.  

In the time it takes a peep to scoop it out of her mouth (she puts up quite a fight over horse poop), she has it all over her face. Being a fastidious guy by nature, I find this a bit repulsive.  Thus, I consider her to be s%#@-faced.  No strong drink involved, just fermented horse-dookie.

Pearle, I love you just how you are.  I love you even better without poop on your face!

Advertisements

About onecoolgriff

Hello to all my friends! My name is Rambo and I'm a Petite Brussels Griffon living in Michigan. My family is a bit diverse, and we love all the exciting things that can happen when you live in a small zoo. Included in my family are five dogs (two more Griffs, although Pearlie Blue is really a Pug-Griff I think, and Jemmie the diva; Atticus the Rottweiler aka Atticus the Bratticus, and Buddy the incredibly-old-but-still-getting-around whatever kind of dog), two cats that the peeps call Barn Cats, making them a bit more mysterious than a "regular" cat; three VERY BIG horses, and of course my two peeps, Mom an Dad. I love being a little Griff in a big world. Everyday is an adventure and my job is to find the usual things and make them unusual. Never a problem! I'll be sure to let you know whenever I find something new and exciting.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to You Can’t Call Me S%#@ -Faced

  1. Bassas Blog says:

    I have never understood the allure of fermented horse-dookie but it’s obviously irresistible to Pearle 🙂

  2. Bassas Blog says:

    To commemorate 52 weeks of blogging the tall person and I have designed a blogging award to acknowledge 52 blogs that we think are stars of the blogging world. You are one of the stars. This is a link to the post: http://bassasblog.wordpress.com/?p=7243&preview=true

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s