Two nights ago, I woke up to find my dog AWOL. I got out of bed to investigate but not finding him, I turned off the light and returned to bed, only to hear pitiful cries coming from my kitchen. I backtracked and saw the funniest sight: my little cloud-puff Harlequin had stolen my ball of red and white yarn off the coffee table and proceeded to run around the house playing until he managed to rope himself like a young calf in a rodeo. With his tail tied to his leg and his pride bruised, he looked at me knowing full well that his Mama would save him.
I tried to be stern but all I could really do was laugh. This is the same dog who once pooped in my TNA bag during a serious convention after my friend and I were forced to take him along because he would not be quiet in the hotel room, and he is the very same dog who was also caught lying halfway inside a big bag of potato chips on the coffee table one evening after I got out of the bathtub, munching away happily, not a care in the world.
Harley is a bad dog, and I tell him this when he does bad boy things. But he doesn't care. He does what he wants.
Yesterday, I was supposed to go to Spin Class and I left rehearsal late so I had 30 minutes to get dinner, feed Harley, get my clothes and get out the door. When I got home, I wasn't feeling great and I was exhausted but I was trying to amp myself up to go downtown for the class. I walked in, said "Where's Mama's dog?" and was greeted with a dog that looked like he was ready to be mailed away to anywhere in Canada... Harley had chewed up a book of postage stamps.
Now, you may wonder, 'why in the name of God do you even own postage stamps in this day and age of technology?' but I like to send some things through the snail mail, like letters to my nan. What about it? I can own stamps if I want to. Well, wait, not if Harley has anything to do with it. 8 stamps were salvageable.
Harley ate / destroyed / stuck the remainder of them on himself. Harley likes to eat paper things. He eats receipts, tissue, homework, books... you name the paper, Harley has licked it or chewed it. He is not discriminatory.
But stamps, well they have some kind of glue and I guess he couldn't lick them all. I had to cut some of them out. He doesn't like the scissors so much. Head-postmaster Harley got a bit of a haircut yesterday. I shunned him, like the dog-raising books say to do, but Harley doesn't care. He just comes over and hangs out anyway.
So I didn't go to Spin. I was frustrated all to Hell and I went for a nap - first on the couch, then in the bathtub and finally in bed. Sometimes I fall asleep in the tub. It's no big deal.
Tonight, though, we went swimming. It was fun times. We all swam a kilometre each. Jenny does this on a regular basis. On Tuesday I swam 750m, tonight I swam the full 1km, as did Lisa. We are all pretty awesome ;)
Not too shabby.
Jenny grabbed Lisa by the boob.
Lisa grabbed Jenny by the arse.
I didn't assault anyone like that.
We all kicked, punched, slapped or otherwise assaulted each other in some form.
My goggles suction onto my head too tightly sometimes, and at one point tonight, my left eye started bugging out of my head and I couldn't see out of it for a little bit. It got worrisome. I got a bit dizzy.
On Tuesday, Jenny got a leg cramp so bad, she had to hang onto the blue circle rope thing and try not to drown. It was bad for business there for a little bit. Alanna talked her through it.
All in all, a good night. I was a bit afraid to see what I would come home to, but it was ok. Harley wasn't in knots and nothing was stuck to him.
More swimming and spinning next week. The assaults will continue.
We are looking better, feeling better, eating better and thinking better.... on the right track.