Doggone it

We've got ourselves a house guest. For 3 weeks. My parents went to visit my brother in Germany so we stepped up and offered to babysit. Lucky. That's not what I am. That's the dog's name. He managed to pee all over the house yesterday. And when Hunka Hunka Burnin Love came home from work this morning around 5:30, Lucky woke everyone up by barking at him. Then he got nasty and growled at him. So he won himself a night of sleeping in the Hotel a la Garage.

Don't worry mom and dad, he's fine. No problem at all. Really. I'm not being sarcastic either.

To top off my "dog" post I'd just like to take a moment to gross everybody out. Ready? When we went camping Jack rode on my lap the whole way there. It was really sweet and I was loving it. Yes, I think I'm going to be one of those old ladies with purple hair and a lap dog. Don't laugh, my great grandma had purple hair. And a lap dog for that matter. Although I don't really know if she ever actually let the dog on her lap. Huh. Food for thought.

Anywho, we were just getting ready to pull into the campground when Jack puked all over me. Talk about disgusting. I had to change my pants and shirt. He nailed me good. So on the way home I'm thinking, "Hmmm, maybe we should keep him in his kennel so that I'm not subjected to another Jack Attack." Without giving it another thought I let him into my lap and we scurried off to home sweet home. We made it all the way back to town and everything was fine. What was I worried about? Surely the poor little dog isn't going to hurl his guts out on me every single time we get into the car. A few miles from our house...he did. I laughed hysterically. Looking back I realized this must have been a knee jerk reaction to keep from either a. crying, b. puking, or c. throwing him out the window.

I love dogs. Moose is a good dog.