I have a grand-dog. I’m not thrilled by the situation.

My daughter came home to visit the other day with a dog. She is the worst dog I have ever met. Yes, she is cute and has soft ears and likes to lay in my lap or across my legs. She gives little kisses. She does the cute puppy-legs, with her legs straight out behind her. And she is very cute when she plays, throwing her toys into the air and pouncing on them and shaking them mercilessly. But she’s a little strange in the head. For example:

— She has pooped and peed on my floor about eighteen times. I will take her for a half-hour walk, she will come in the house, and she will immediately sneak upstairs and poop in the hallway.

— She is weird about anything on your head. I came downstairs with a towel on my head, and she went completely berzerk, barking hysterically until I pulled the towel off. My son is not allowed to wear hats. She even barked at my other daughter because she was wearing a headband.

— She is aggressive toward other dogs, like, ready to fight no matter how big the other dog is. Luckily, she apparently thinks she’s a cat. She lounges with the cats completely comfortably without any aggression at all. 

— She won’t eat her dog food. She’s too busy trying to eat the cat food.

— She barks at nothing. She will stare into space and bark like a crazy-dog. In the middle of the night.

— She eats toilet paper. Unused, I mean. Well, she might eat used, but she hasn’t yet had that opportunity.

— She steals underwear.

— She walks herself. She insists on carrying the lower part of the leash in her mouth, periodically shaking it like a dead rabbit. Her whole body will flail. I’m afraid she’ll snap her neck.

— She bursts out of the house at about 100 MPH, despite being on a leash. I put her on a long lead in the backyard, and she tore out of the door after a bird. I yelled for her to stop, thinking she’d break her back when she reached the end of the lead, but instead SHE RIPPED THE HARNESS IN HALF. Yes, she was wearing an adorable pink quilted harness, and she ripped the clasp holding the lead completely off the harness.

— She can fit through the slats of our fence, and thinks me yelling, “No, Gypsy!” is very funny.

— She weighs about ten pounds, so I’m not sure she’s even a dog. I think she might just be a very large rodent.

— Her ears do not fit the size of her head. When she perks up those ears, it’s like watching the sails of a sailboat slowly opening, catching the wind with a snap.

About alisaacarter

I am a writer of young adult novels, wife, mom of three, lover of animals, former magazine editor, reader of anything paranormal, and coffee fanatic.
This entry was posted in My weird cats. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s