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bear by san

December 2021



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bear by san

And then there are the days when responsible pet ownership means chanting I will not beat my dog with the hammer. I will not beat my dog with the hammer. I will not beat my dog with the hammer. until the urge passes and one can deliver an irate but suitably nonviolent browbeating and muzzle-tapping for stealing all the blankets off the bed and sucking on them.

Thank God I'm not a parent. You can exile a Great Dane to the back yard for a couple of hours in the rain and not feel too terribly bad about it, no matter how much she thinks she's been send to the Gulag Archipelago.

Argh. I think I'm going to eat my salad and read some more of Peter's book, because it's good and it makes me less pissy.


It's funny that you say you're glad you aren't a parent -- my first thought when reading it was "that's how I sometimes feel as a father." I love my boys -- no question, no hesitation, but sometimes...
I make a point of making my wife's coffee every morning before I leave for my day job -- I figure a couple of minutes work there is far preferable than coming home to the cops taking her away...
I couldn't have children. I couldn't handle the jail time.

I am in awe of anybody who manages, especially in this day and age.
Hello, are you me? 'Cause I say that all the time. I'm always telling my coworkers that you can put the cat out on the screen porch if she annoys you, but you can't do that with a baby or people get mad.
Yummy blankets!

Mine have their own irritating habits, but how can I stay mad at them when they roll over and wave their paws at me. They both know I'm an incredible sucker for that and use that trick as well as the *whump* head-on-knee-roll-eyes one.

BTW, love the Sandbaggers icon. Just finished watching the first season and am ever so hooked. You are evil to my bank account.
I'm a bad girl. I admit it.

*rolls over and waves paws*
the *whump* head-on-knee-roll-eyes one

My Husky does that! Usually after he's raided the trash and knows Mommy will kill him when she sees the kitchen...
All I have is a feline gallumphing (and how you can gallumph when you weigh all of seven pounds, I don't know)through the apartment, knocking over things and inviting me to chase her.

"Mom's working, sweetie" isn't working today.
There are days I give myself brownie points for not duct-taping my kid to the wall.

Sometimes, I just go downstairs and read Edward Gorey's The Gashlycrumb Tinies, ("A is for Amy who fell down the stairs. B is for Basil assaulted by Bears") until the urge passes. Nothing like dark humor for those of us with Addams Family values!
Both the cats, who are peeing all over the house, and the dog who has been extra naughty lately. I'm going to duct tape them all together.

The baby has been wonderfully delightful.
Oh, I can sympathise. The German Shepherd once climbed up on our bed, then wet all over it. We had to replace the mattress.

Grr! It almost makes me mind less when they've "just" eaten the fence palings between us and the horrid neighbours. Or killed a small furry thing. Or raided the rubbish bins.

But we can't whack our fur-babies with hammers.

I tend to whack a character in my novel instead. Or blow something up. Novels are useful that way.