Mark has been getting up before me lately. He gets organized, makes coffee, and then does a little work on his computer before he heads off for the day. What he does NOT do is deal with the dogs.
He refuses to deal with the dogs.
Both dogs sleep in the laundry room, which is off of the kitchen. Persie the Labrador has a bed back there and Jack has a crate. Persie would just sit quietly in the laundry room until next Thursday if we asked her to do that, but Jack is all perky Terrier ears. As soon as he hears Mark moving about in the adjacent kitchen, he begins to bark.
A note here about Jack’s shock collar . . . it is designed to turn off if Jack barks too much, on the assumption that I do not want my dog to be punished harshly for a possible panicky emergency dog situation.
To which I say . . . I do not need the dog to alert me to emergencies that may be occurring in the laundry room at 6:30 in the morning.
SHOCK THE LITTLE FUCKER UNTIL HE SHUTS THE HELL UP!
Go ahead. Report me to the SPCA. I do not even care.
OK, so Mark gets up and goes about his morning.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
And I lie in bed and hate Mark.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
Mark gets annoyed when I go down and let the dogs out while he is still home, “You’re just rewarding bad behavior, Kris. Let him bark. He will shut up eventually. He needs to learn.”
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
I lie in bed and wonder how it is that Mark is not driven insane by the barking.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
I lie in bed and remember all those times Mark never heard the girls crying in the middle of the night when they were babies.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
I lie in bed and hate Mark.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
I lie in bed and wonder if the neighbors are hating us.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
I pull the covers over my head.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
Oh my god . . . I CANNOT STAND IT.
I stomp down the stairs and into the laundry room. Feed the dogs. Let the dogs out into the back yard to go potty. Let them back into the house.
I lock Persie the Labrador back in the laundry room.
I carry Jack in my arms down to where Mark is working, “I am taking Jack up into bed with me. I cannot stand the barking.”
Mark looks at me pityingly, “You gave in? He’s just going to be worse tomorrow.”
“I don’t care. He can come snuggle with me.”
“Fine. Don’t let him near my pillow.”
“Whatever.”
So I carry a joyful Jack back up to our bedroom and climb into bed.
Jack is not feeling restful.
Jack has a way of jumping as though he is on the moon and somehow less impacted by gravity than a dog his size might normally be.
Boing . . . boing . . . boing . . . CRASH!
He falls off of the bed, and he is too small to get back up.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
AUGH!
I reach down and pull him back up onto the bed, try to hold him under the covers with me. I whisper into his fur as I hold him tightly, “Snuggle, you stupid fucking dog.”
He kicks and nips at me and squirms free.
Boing . . . boing . . . boing . . . CRASH!
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
Are you kidding me? I lift him back up.
Boing . . . boing . . . boing . . . SKID!
He is on my nightstand.
Fine. What do I care? Don’t break the lamp.
I pull the covers over my head.
Chomp, slobber, rip . . . chomp, slobber, rip.
He found a roll of mints.
Chomp, chomp, chomp.
Boing . . . boing . . .boing . . . STOP.
He is standing on my chest, staring down into my face.
I reach to pet him, “Could you please just calm down so I can sleep for like ten minutes? Please, Jack? You are driving me . . .”
I do not know how to type the sound of a huge minty dog burp, but that’s what happens to interrupt my sentence.
Something like bbrrrbrbrbbbabaaaaaapppppp.
And then before I can register that there is danger?
He spits up a small amount of minty barf . . . on . . . my . . . head.
I fling him to the ground.
THUD.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
I climb out of bed and head into the bathroom to rinse my face of dog barf.
I stare at Jack, who sits politely at my feet, “If you have to barf again, could you do it here on the tiled floor?”
He stares at me.
“Listen, Jack. Five minutes of quiet. Five minutes . . . come on, Jack. Please?”
I carry him back to the bed.
I climb into bed.
Boing, boing, boing . . . BARF.
Yeah.
On the bed.
A pile of wet minty dog food.
And then this morning?
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
Jack started barking at 6:02.
Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.
Mark rolls over and looks at me, “I told you so.”
Mark is annoying.
So…who’s the jackass? The dog or Mark? hehe
Men have some kind of filter that allows them to sleep through crying/screaming children. The one time my husband did get up (because my ear was stuffed & I couldn’t hear…) he WOKE ME UP to complain about having to get up.
Jackass.
Hee hee!
Perhaps I should have made the title plural.
Yes . . . the few times Mark woke up when the girls were babies?
He only woke to point out to me that I needed to wake up.
Jackass.
Snort!
BWHAHHAHAHAHA
Seriously, I can’t stop laughing after you wrote “small amount of minty barf”
hahahahahahah
I am all giggling.
It was NOT funny at the time.
But my life is insanely funny after a small amount of time has passed.
Hee hee!
You may hate me but…. ummm …. well …. Mark is right.
On the other hand if Mark is up and the reason the dogs start in. He should take care of the dogs.
With a consistent routine the dogs wouldn’t bark. I have two chihuahuas. They don’t bark in the morning. They know the morning routine.
Here’s the thing.
I know Mark is right, but that dog can bark nonstop for two hours.
Seriously.
So he should let them out.
Or at least not object when I let them out.
Exactly.
Oh. My. Fucking. God!!!
This sounds like my house.
Thankfully I found so poor sap (oldest daughter) to take the small troublesome jackass dog off my hands.
He’s going to be her “baby”
Snort!
I love this dog.
Sigh.
He is my baby.
Hush.
I LOVE this!! Have been there with the barf on the bed (but sadly not the minty variety)!
What a perfect way to wake up in the morning!
Thanks for the laugh!
Hee hee!
We can start a barf-bed club!
We are going to be way popular with all the cool kids!
Yay!
I almost peed my pants! I felt every bark. If Mark was my hubby he would be neutered! (sorry mark)
Yes!
Stupid husband.
Thank you.
that is supposed to say “some poor sap”
stupid fucking cast!
Wait.
Cast?
Mentos, the barf-maker?
Sorry, couldn’t resist. The Mentos slogan popped into my head immediately.
I feel your pain. I’ve been there with pets who insist on waking me at an ungodly hour. So hard to ignore.
Madeleine -
Mentos the barf maker?
Bwahahahaha!
That’s perfect!
I say that to Himself all the time,* “Snuggle, you stupid fucking husband.”
* By which I mean, I so never say that.
I may have actually said that to Mark at some point.
Maybe.
*By which I mean . . . maybe.
Our dogs are so good when they are in the laundry room.
The cats? Yeah not so much. At 1 am last night Ella decides it’s a perfect time to start clawing at the rug next to the hubby which work him up and he work me up. I fall back asleep. Hubby does not. He is grumpy now.
I don’t remember the bark collar stopping. But then it did work on our dog and she only barks now for a reason. Thank goodness!
Jack would drive me crazy. One word – earplugs :)
Lizzie -
Jack’s bark collar is usually quite effective.
Unless he is determined and persistent about being released and fed.
And then he barks through the collar’s powers.
Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark.
Sigh.
Plus also?
I hate earplugs.
Stupid husband.
I just noticed the iphone changed whatever I screwed up typing from woke to work. lol.
I swear, some of the things the iphone tries to correct to don’t make any sense. Ellachanted = Ella hanged is the usual.
I am not crazy about the earplugs. But they do help somewhat. And I still hear my husband’s noisy fan through the earplugs. So you may still hear the barking even with the ear plugs.
Sigh.
Lizzie -
I always worry I am going to miss a problem with the girls if I wear earplugs.
And believe me, I have thought about using earplugs.
Not because of the dog, though.
No . . . someone who shall remain nameless but who is in fact named Mark snores.
SNORES.
Sigh.
My cat likes to be fed by 6 a.m. I prefer not to get up until at least 7:30 a.m. when I may or may not feed him. He whiles away the hours by pacing around the house going, “meow! [pause] meow! [pause] meow!….” Every pause is exactly two seconds.
When my daughter was born, cat who is too smart for his own good, noticed I responded immediately to her cries. So, of course he would rattle the door knob of her room until she woke up and cried.
Now, child and cat wake up at approximately the same time so about 6:30 a.m. starts the refrain of, “Meow! [cat], Mom! [kid], Meow! [cat], Mom! [kid].” And if I manage to sleep through that on a weekend? My husband has been known to kick me in the leg and tell me the kid is awake. (He denied actually kicking me until I one morning I was feigning sleep and he did it.)
It’s really no wonder that I start drinking so early in the morning.
Steph -
Your whole comment is awesome, but did you say that your cat learned to wake the baby by rattling the door?
That is a genius and evil cat!
Wow!
Also, I have tried to feign a sleep so deep that Mark would realize that he needs to deal with the emergency himself.
He just reaches over to shake me awake.
No way are our children HIS problem.
Bother.
Love your posts about Jack
boing boing boing
bark bark bark bark bark
heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
that is all
Amy -
Jack could have his own blog if he could type.
Sadly, he has no thumbs.
He is thumbless and blogless.
Hee hee!
Please tell me Jack barfed on Mark’s pillow?
As for barf . . . in yo face . . . Bet you were wishing you would have kept the covers over your head.
Heh.
At least it was minty.
That would have been awesome!
It WAS on Mark’s side of the bed, though.
I had to take the comforter to the cleaner’s today.
Sigh.
Jack,
We should meet up and, you know, bark.
Moosedawg
Jack says he would kick Moosedawg’s ass.
Jack is quite cocky for a smallish dog.
Snort!
oh man that is great! Cali refuses to snuggle sometimes at night so she sits and whines at my bedroom door. But at least she doesn’t bounce, bark and puke lol.
Amber -
No, I am the only one lucky enough to get the dog that bounces, barks, and pukes.
Yay, me!
I am awesome.
Hmmph.