Untidy Drawers

My expensive Boscov’s underwear are untidy in my old cherry dresser. They have never been straight.  I haven’t the patience to finish the job–that has always been OK with me.

I’m not the boss though: even in my room, my dogs run things.  Ruby, my Aussie has a bark so loud and shrill I must leave the room if she won’t stop.  Louie the 14th, my Petite Basset Griffon Vendeen can have such a dreadful smell both breath and body that I have to clean and clean.  It’s worth it to have their loving company and they don’t care about well-organized drawers.

My Only Friend, The End

In April I will turn 60. Hell, I am still waiting for puberty to wrap up. I have loved–it was mostly for animals–humans and dogs.  When I was younger I smelled fresher, but now PU.

If my health insurance gets canceled that’s it.  I am going to take 40 Ambien, sixteen shots of Tequila, eat 1 lb of bad sushi, then eat two whole Dominos large pizzas with extra cheese and four toppings.  If that doesn’t kill me nothing will. I just hope I don’t wake up from that.

Having It All

In the sixties all you needed was love.

In 2018 I need love, medicine, money, cell phone, more money, and a weapon.  I have all of these.  True love from Louie, my dog.  Medicine from various healers.  I don’t work anymore but love to spend money.  My love life and my cell phone need a charge.  My weapons are a BB gun, a shovel and a frying pan.

I have it all for now.

It’s Good For Him

I google things every day.  My dog spends a lot of time licking his privates.  Over an hour every day although I’ve not timed him.  I google this to find out how to stop him.  But, he has been doing this his entire lifetime and is now a senior. He keeps a good attitude. Always healthy and happy.

Tuesdays are for Louie

Louie was my mother’s dog.  When she died, Louie became my father’s dog.  When Bob, my dad, went into assisted living, Louie became my dog.  Every Tuesday I take Louie to see my dad.  I also might take a couple chocolate éclairs.

You just have to enjoy life.  My dad doesn’t say much.  He can still devour an éclair very quickly.

Louie and Daisy

I used to have to keep a close eye on my dog, Louie.  Whenever he got out without his leash on, he’d run out of sight and wouldn’t come back.  I’d have to grab some treats and drive after him, and there’s something I hate about driving at a crawl down the street yelling “Louuuuuuie” over and over.

Then my new roommate moved in with her dog Daisy. Since Daisy moved in, I don’t have to worry about Louie straying too far from home anymore.  He stays right by her side.

It’s good to know that the roommate situation has worked out for the both of us.

Oh hell

A horrible message on my cell this morning. ” Stephen, this is Lulu, can you work for me tomorrow, I hurt my back. “Oh hell , shit, and damn, that women comes up with more excuses not to work. I had my whole day planned. Take a shower, and walk the dog. I was going to sleep in, and go out to lunch. Now I am going to get up at 5:30, drive to town, cook breakfast,lunch,and dinner for the twenty five residents who like to complain. Then come home too tired to clean up the dog dookies my best friend will leave me because he doesn’t like to be alone. Oh hell. shit, and damn.

Louie and God

“Louie, what are you doing down there?”
When I woke this morning, Louie, my Petite Basset was not next to me in bed. He was laying beside the bed, on top of my blankets that I must have tossed during a rough night’s sleep. I must have tossed Louie too. I saw his chest moving and thanked the Lord I didn’t hurt him. His eyes opened, he saw me, and his tail beat the blanket. He is glad to see me.
First he slept with mom, she is gone. Dad kicked him out of bed, because he likes to snuggle his rear end up against you for warmth. Now he sleeps with me. I’m not a good sleeper, and I think Louie is developing bags under his eyes like mine.
Someone asked me once, did I know that dog spelled backwards is God.
I believe for me it may be.

What’s going on?

I smiled the other day. I laughed at a joke I heard last night. It is January 7, and I am not fighting depression. You know the melancholy, the black cloud of negative thought, and sadness. It is 12 degrees out, and the wind is howling. I’m happy. It must be from the love of a dog, good pot, and writing blogs.

Alone in the Herd

I’ve noticed since the cold weather started
that people are once again staying away from me in large numbers.
I can’t figure it out.
When I am out in public I can see that I am above average-looking.
At Walmart I feel like a tiger in a herd of water buffalo.

I am quiet, semi-well-groomed, very funny at times, and yet people stay away from me in droves.
The one who benefits from this is my dog, Louis the Fourteenth.
He could not get more love.
It doesn’t help my situation that I like to be alone.