It's been 12 hours since I've done something stupid.
|Don't be fooled by her cuteness. She will eat your dangly bits for lunch.|
(*Awkward silence, followed by a slow clap*)
It all started when I agreed to watch my parent's dog for five days. Her name is Tazz, short for Tasmanian Devil; like the character she was named after, she will eat through anything and leave a trail of destruction everywhere she goes. Things I have found in her mouth this week: leaves, a roll of electrical tape, a used Q-tip, kleenex, receipts, cat toys and one of Andrew's winter glove. She also constantly had to be tied up when put outside, because otherwise she'd just fuck off and run away to do whatever she felt like doing. There's a lot of personality packed into that 10 pound ball of fur.
It wasn't until the last day of dogsitting that I had my great idea: since Tazz doesn't have very far to run when tied to a post, I thought it would be great if I would tie the rope between the two dogs (since Lucy doesn't run away). And I thought it would be genius if I got them to run by having them chase me.
Do you see what's coming?
After sprinting, I stopped and watched them run by me. I also watched the nylon rope stretched between them get closer and closer to my legs. And then I saw a beautiful blue sky.
Because I was laying flat on my back on my front lawn.
Because I set myself up to get clotheslined by a 60 and 10 lbs dog.
Although it didn't actually hurt at the time, after 24 hours I ended up with this giant bitch of a bruise:
|Apologies for the shitty photo quality, but my camera is dead|
and I'm too lazy to find more batteries, so I took the photo
with my cell. Also, it's fucking hard to take a picture of the
back of your own leg.
I am now forced to wear leggings under all of my dresses or people will think that Andrew goes after me with a baseball bat when I burn his supper.
HA! Like I would ever cook.