Why Don't I Shut UP?

Okay, so anyone who knows me, knows that I live in a house with roughly 227 animals. Yep...snakes, fish, dogs, cats, lizard (only one), a possum (he's an outdoor pet cause he can't mind his manners). Its insane. My wife is literally running an animal orphanerium (I like Futurama).

When I come home from work at night, i'm usually first home so its my "responsibility" to let the dogs out. I had to create a law:

Rule #1. All dogs must be caged up in the basement when we go to work.

If you're one of those animal-loving nutjobs who are going to give me shit about doing this...fire away, froggy. If you've ever come home to find your couch devoured or a four-foot hole in the carpet, you'd change your tune pretty quick....plus I love the look on their faces when I slam the door shut. Its that look of "jesus, i hope that big meat bag comes back..." and it brings me great joy.

So when I come home, I trudge down to the dungeon and release my four-legged prisoners. They bark with glee and jump up on me, hailing me like the evil oppressor that I am. Then they stampede up the steps and to the back door. This is the point where the animal bottleneck starts. Because not only do I have the imprisoned dog rule...i have the exiled cat rule.

Rule#2: All cats must be exiled from the house when humans are not home.

To my hippy-tree-hugging-animal-bleeding-hearts: Ever smell cat piss? I rest my case.

Anyway...the bottleneck...three dogs rushing outside, four cats rushing inside, one me standing there holding the door and laughing maniacally as cats and dogs wedge themselves into the door frame. I had this dream where Richard Simmons, Star Jones, and Chris Farley were all racing to get into a Dunkin Doughnuts...that's what it reminds me of. All I see jammed in the door frame are dog asses and bulgy-eyed cat heads all squeezing. You want to tell them "Hey cats...hey dogs...just wait your turn!" But animals are much more selfish than people in that respect and I have a feeling that they're ignoring me most of the time anyway....that is until food is near.

If I have a sandwich or a piece of pizza or anything remotely edible in my hands, suddenly eating becomes a spectator sport. All the free-grazing animals in my house suddenly crowd around me as if I were getting ready to read them a story. And they've gotten really REALLY good at putting on that needy face. Which leads me to my third and greatly ignored rule:

Rule #3: Don't feed the animals table food.

Ladies and Gentlemen...the main reason I don't want the dogs having table food is actually a 2-part answer. First, my dogs already have it better than me...if I can reduce them a little by making them eat hard brown kibble then I have that right! Second...i dont know about your dogs, but I SWEAR mine have farting contests. Yeah yeah, i'm nuts...NO...they lay at my feet and crack off horribly toxic stinkers that hit me so unexpectedly I almost start crying. I have to admit, I am a little impressed at their gastric abilities...in a sick kinda way only a man could be.

We will finish the animal rules in the next blog....stay tuned!

posted by Michael Witmer @ Wednesday, December 15, 2004