Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Flea: An Update

Morning Readers,

     Occasionally, when I'm in the shower, I feel like I'm being watched. Actually, I know I am. It only takes a quick turn and a eye full of shampoo to observe the waterfall of jowl casually resting on the side of my tub. Apparently, something about naked sightseeing fascinates him. Right now, he's resting his boxer bones on my back step, soaking in the sunlight. And by the expression on his face, is channeling Thoreau, to the best of his ability, while contemplating the complexities of nature. Ok, probably giving him too much credit, but he's turned over a new leaf and is doing his best to avoid a one-way trip to a nice farm somewhere. Where Flea and I stand= I no eat hole in your wall....you no kill me.

     It's true, the destruction, I used to so angrily expound upon, has subsided considerably. The drywall no longer trembles in fear. The hole in my deck seems to have been abandoned, and the babies' toys have quit being regular patrons on his lunch menu. Captain Calamari, the stuffed squid, can finally get a good night's sleep, his tentacles notably more relaxed than usual( a huge relief, as Prozac, for squids, is ridiculously expensive.). The slobber is decreasing, and the rate of visitors being flattened, upon entering my home, has been reduced to a respectable two out of three, instead of three out of three. And yet......
      Hair. I can't get over the hair. Pet hair doesn't bother a lot of people. In fact, a few trips to my local pet store have confirmed that there's a few old ladies out there, that seem to be keeping themselves busy, making sweaters out of it; the crazy texture beautifully complementing their chocolate-brown lip liner. I WISH I could make that much peace with the little black pieces of annoyance which stick happily to everything I own.
     Because dog hair may just be magic. Ah yes, why didn't I think of it before? Dog's are obviously descendants of wizards. What other explanation can there be when one opens a previously hermetically-sealed Greek yogurt, only to find a solitary, black hair prominently displayed in the middle of do-no-wrong vanilla goodness? Or really, in anything else I try to eat. It's sneaky and gross. Nevermind that it may get along fine with the digestive tract. Still. Gross.
     Hair issues aside, the Flea disturbances have been minimal. Sure, there's still some howling at the precise moment I've gotten the twins to sleep, or the fact that the click of his toenails on vinyl flooring, manages to send him flying across the room in terror. Or the shower peep shows he likes to indulge in. But what am I going to do with my little transcendentalist? I dunno....How much can you get for a boxer on E-bay?

Until Next Time Readers!