Who let the dogs out?*

ME


So now that I'm bunking at the parents (thanks mom and dad for taking in my poor soul with no place to lay her head - ha, I sound so pitiful, when in reality I'm just still in the place i like to call TransitionELL - I know I know I sound so bitter, really I'm not, I just like to be funny at times, the kind of funny that can get mistaken for sarcasm and bitterness but is quickly followed by my sweet angelic smile so you know that I'm just being funny, the innocent happy funny)

So in living with the parents and their replacement children, three of us so when we all left the nest three new individuals had to fill the void, but those individuals are dogs. Rugger (boxer, big boxer), Maggie (mutt, hairy mutt), and Sebastian (the punk dog that escaped on Sunday and led me on a wild goose chase) are my parents new *kids*.

After living alone for so long you forget what it's like to have responsibilities outside of yourself, i.e. you realize that living solo leads to utter laziness and selfishness. But when you throw three dogs into the new living situation you quickly leave those behind. Dogs need feeding, letting in and out, and of course attention at 5:00 am when they are whining at your bedroom door because they just want to talk. Really it's not anywhere near as bad as I make it out to be, actually it's fun to have the rugrats around.

So I'm off to do my duty as the official doorwoman for the pooches and let them out.

*The writer apologizes to anyone who now has this song stuck in their head on repeat for the rest of the day. Take comfort in knowing you now share my pain.