"Take a good look at yourself woman - You are insane! You talk to us like you expect us to give you answers, you get all stabby over little things like dirty paw prints and bin raids and seriously what the hell is with all the boo boo booby boo little moo diddly moo shit you rabbit on with? Your Honour I call for this woman to be committed."
I couldn't blame him really.
He would have a very strong case against me.
I think I am actually a little insane.
I am guilty of the squeaky little baby talk with my fur babies. I have nicknames for them that could make you puke with all the sweetness like Milly Moo Moo, Maxi Boo Boo and My little Smelly Welly Chops and Sweet little Stinky Winkers. Do you need a bucket?
But then there are times that I lose it. Like 'lost the plot and good luck convincing anyone you are normal again' kind of losing it.
I didn't realise just how much of a frazzle these dogs can get me into and just how insane I can get until I found myself in a one sided screaming match yesterday with one of the dogs and in a moment of clarity I realised Lassie would be quite within his rights to label me a complete nutter.
One of the Little Stinky Winkers (that would be Mad Max of the neurotic poodles breathen), had decided to get into the garbage bin under the sink and not only spill the entire contents over the kitchen floor, but literally drag it all from one end of the house to the other. Smearing cream carpets, tiles and couches with greasy chewed up teriyaki chicken legs in his quest to find the perfect hiding spot.
I lost it! No...... like completely lost it in a purple face kind of way and I stood there with two hands waving in the air demanding answers .... from a dog .... as to why he would do such a thing.
"WHY MAX, WHYYYYY??? WHAT KIND OF KNOBHEAD OF A DOG DOES THAT??"
I stomped around dry retching as I picked up all the bin crap and continued on with my vein popping tirade.
"SERIOUSLY YOU LITTLE MORON, WHAT JOY DO YOU GET OUT OF THIS?
IS IS BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN IGNORING YOU WHILE I"M WORKING? IS IT??????
I HAVE TO WORK! THAT BLOODY FOOD YOU EAT ISN'T CHEAP YOU KNOW!
NOOOO YOU WONT EAT THE NORMAL FOOD LIKE NORMAL DOGS WILL YOU MAX? NOOOO YOU HAVE TO GO ALL meeememeemee meeeme give me frigging caviar and truffle flavoured goose egg freaking cordon blah DON'T YOU?????
He doesn't eat caviar truffle flavoured goose eggs cordon blah. I may have got a little carried away .....
It was only when I stopped for air mid rant that I realised Max was sitting there with his head tilted slightly to the left and looking at me like he had no idea what this raving lunatic was going on about .... and nor did he look like he really gave a shit either!
I can be nice you know. I have manners and I generally I use them, even with the dogs.
When the dogs are barking I politely call out SHUUUUUUUTUP ...... please!
When they knock me off my feet in a race to get to the door when a visitor arrives, I generally just pick myself up, dust myself off and laugh it off with a gentle "After you ButtSnot!"
And when the dogs lie all over my husband and I in bed at night, I don't usually lose it at them. I gently push them aside so I can sneak back a few centimeters of leg room. Unless my legs are dislocating at the hip from being so twisted because there is no freaking room to stretch them out ..... then admittedly I may get a little testy.
I had a point to this post, but I have completely lost my train of thought somewhere between the bin crap and dislocated hips.
They do that to me, and I believe it's all part of their master plan in which they join forces with the human rugrats and take over this house. Or it could be because I am slightly distracted as I write this as I'm playing Milly MooMoo wanna play bouncies with one dog, and politely asking Maxi MooMoo shmiddly Moo who is currently barking at his shadow to SHUT THE TRUCK UP pwetty pweease!
Your Honour, I concede. Lassie has a damn good case - I am insane!