It’s confession Friday again! And I’ve decided that it’s time I share something with you:
I live with a dog.
It’s true! “Dog” is not really a bad word, I know this, but I couldn’t give away the whole confession right there in the title.
Anyway, I felt I needed to come clean. I’m not ashamed. In fact, I’m proud. She’s a great dog. Her name is Dixie. My FODs call her “Doodle.” Or “Goober.” Or “No, Not On The Couch!” She, like me, used to be homeless. As the story goes, my mom FOD found her on the street near Fort Knox. She saw a puppy on her friend’s lawn and went to pet her and the tiny 12-pound dog crawled up, flipped over on her back, and my mom picked her up and kissed her. She said she thought to herself “If I could have this dog, I would be so happy.” Then the neighbor came out and said “Someone better take her home. She’s been living in the trash cans for 3 weeks and I’m about to call animal control tomorrow.” And so, it was done. With a lick and a hug, the relationship was solidified, like so many relationships in Hollywood these days. Did I mention I love Channing Tatum?
The cool thing about this dog is she loves cats. If we cats get in an argument, she barks and breaks it up. Sometimes she chews on my head, but I kick her with my stump and run off. Then she chases me and I get more mad and hit her with my paw, which makes her chase me more. Then I run to my magic kitchen carpet where nothing can pass my defenses!!! But somehow Doodle still manages to chew on my head so I just sit there, resigned, and let her. It’s best to pick my battles, I suppose.
So, world, meet Doodle. The dog I live with. Proudly. With no regrets. Except for when I don’t eat my snack fast enough and she gets it and then I’m hungry and she’s not. I regret that. But nothing else. I swear.
For your enjoyment, here’s a TV commercial from 2011 when Doodle was on TV in Chicago. And she won the contest, too! Fancy!
What do you want to confess today? Tell me. I promise, I won’t share. Or make fun of you. Too much.