Oh Mickey.....

Marc made me feel bad that I was dissin' the Mickster so much in here. So, ok, Mickey and I are buddies again. He hasn't peed in the house (that I know of) in a couple days. He hasn't dismembered any of Saige's stuffed animals, he hasn't chewed a hole in the woodwork in a good long time. I think for now we can bury the hatchet and I will attempt to go back to liking dogs. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love animals. I don't eat 'em. I don't like to hear sad stories about them. I love other people's dogs so much. I was just so used to German Shepherds. I've had them for years and years. Smart dogs. Dogs that get it. When I had Buddy and Carly (both shepherds) Buddy would pretend to want to go out so Carly would go to the door and then he would take whatever toy or bone she was playing with. Not so nice, but intelligent. That would be like performing brain surgery for Mickey. He means well though. Well except for to some of his toys. His stuffed toys get kind of a raw deal. Marc and I feel like enablers to a serial killer with some of those animals. He abuses them, we see them lying on the floor looking so helpless. It's sad really. When he has had enough of them he usually takes them outside in the yard and leaves them to be rained or snowed or even mowed with the grass. Then guess what? I'm at Target, I see one that has a good nose or snout he could gnaw on and I think, "Oh Mickey will like that." and down goes another one into the proverbial hole in the basement floor. He names them all Clarice. Anyway, back to liking him again, I'm taking one for the team, sucking it up, not gonna dwell on the carpet cleaning bills, the incessant barking and whining, I like him again, I said grudgingly.