My life is “ruff” rough.
I get up everyday at 4 am. I eat a healthy breakfast of lamb and rice and take my daily vitamin. Then I go to work.
The drive isn’t too long, about 10 minutes. It would be shorter but everyday the guy I drive with stops at Circle K to buy a diet coke. Dude needs to give that stuff up.
At work I have a meeting with the crew before they set up the golf course. Some guy named Oscar usually says he is going to have a carne asada with me, or was it have me for carne asada.
If it is the latter, he couldn’t catch me. I’m too fast. Every time I find a piece of goose or coot that the coyotes have left behind my “master” tries to take it away from me. He looks pretty silly chasing me around so he quit doing it. I just get to chew on it until I’m finished.
One thing he still can’t handle is my affinity for bird crap. I love that shit. I know I’m supposed to chase these geese and coots because they eat the grass seed and poop all over the place, but if he would just leave me alone out there I would at least clean up all of their mess. It would be better than all you can eat shrimp night at Sizzler.
A couple of hours of riding in a golf cart and running around the lakes chasing birds can make a guy tired, so I head back to the shop. I’ll usually settle down in the office with a knucklebone. The chef at the restaurant sets me up whenever he has veal in the kitchen. When I’m done gnawing on that bone for an hour or so its naptime.
After I’m done with my siesta I’ll ride around with the boss and check on the crew. The golf course now has a lot of players on it. Big bossman will stop occasionally to say hi to some of the members. They really don’t talk to him that much; they usually talk to me! They often ask me how many coots I’ve killed today. I say, “None, but I’ve been eating their shit and now I’m licking you with my tongue!”
On the ride home I prepare myself for the second half of my day. That means I have about 30 minutes to rest before the kids get home from school.
I put up with a lot from those kids, especially that little red head. She won’t leave me alone. One day she had me wearing her wiener dog pajamas. It is bad enough that I’m wearing her PJs but do they have to be wiener dog PJs?
Which brings me to the topic of wiener dogs. What’s up with the wiener dogs in this house? Splinter and Mia don’t let me have jack. They are always stealing my stuff. I’ll be chewing on a toy and if I turn my head for a second, poof toy is gone. Those little sausages never let me on the bed or couch either. I sit there and bark at them to let me up and they sit there and snap at me like alligators. It’s just not fair.
I get up everyday at 4 am. I eat a healthy breakfast of lamb and rice and take my daily vitamin. Then I go to work.
The drive isn’t too long, about 10 minutes. It would be shorter but everyday the guy I drive with stops at Circle K to buy a diet coke. Dude needs to give that stuff up.
At work I have a meeting with the crew before they set up the golf course. Some guy named Oscar usually says he is going to have a carne asada with me, or was it have me for carne asada.
If it is the latter, he couldn’t catch me. I’m too fast. Every time I find a piece of goose or coot that the coyotes have left behind my “master” tries to take it away from me. He looks pretty silly chasing me around so he quit doing it. I just get to chew on it until I’m finished.
One thing he still can’t handle is my affinity for bird crap. I love that shit. I know I’m supposed to chase these geese and coots because they eat the grass seed and poop all over the place, but if he would just leave me alone out there I would at least clean up all of their mess. It would be better than all you can eat shrimp night at Sizzler.
A couple of hours of riding in a golf cart and running around the lakes chasing birds can make a guy tired, so I head back to the shop. I’ll usually settle down in the office with a knucklebone. The chef at the restaurant sets me up whenever he has veal in the kitchen. When I’m done gnawing on that bone for an hour or so its naptime.
After I’m done with my siesta I’ll ride around with the boss and check on the crew. The golf course now has a lot of players on it. Big bossman will stop occasionally to say hi to some of the members. They really don’t talk to him that much; they usually talk to me! They often ask me how many coots I’ve killed today. I say, “None, but I’ve been eating their shit and now I’m licking you with my tongue!”
On the ride home I prepare myself for the second half of my day. That means I have about 30 minutes to rest before the kids get home from school.
I put up with a lot from those kids, especially that little red head. She won’t leave me alone. One day she had me wearing her wiener dog pajamas. It is bad enough that I’m wearing her PJs but do they have to be wiener dog PJs?
Which brings me to the topic of wiener dogs. What’s up with the wiener dogs in this house? Splinter and Mia don’t let me have jack. They are always stealing my stuff. I’ll be chewing on a toy and if I turn my head for a second, poof toy is gone. Those little sausages never let me on the bed or couch either. I sit there and bark at them to let me up and they sit there and snap at me like alligators. It’s just not fair.
6 comments:
What a cutie!!!!
Ok, I seriously love this post. Too funny and kind of cute. But not overly so. I mean, it's cute in that very manly way.
I love how you found several ways to talk about poop in this entry Ernie, I can see MalathionMan's influence on you.
It's tough to be the puppy....
Adorable dog... but bird poop? Has he given up on Alpo?!?!?
I tried to comment days ago, but it wouldn't let me (again). That was a great post! I loved reading it. And what a beautiful dog! I might forgive him for licking my gob with a face like that. OK, maybe not. lol
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