Don't Argue With a Weird Person. You'll Never Win.

Nick just asked me why Tank is always running around the house with my underwear.  I told him it's all summed up in my blog post An Open Letter to Tank.  To which he responded, “I’m not reading that voodoo shit”.  Voodoo shit? Did I hear that correctly?  I here I thought I was the weird, dramatic one.  But even I don’t call anything pertaining to the web and social media voodoo.  He also refuses to get on Facebook or check out my twitter page.

So naturally I yelled, “You never listen to me when I talk….viamysocialmediachannels.”

This was followed by a I’m-concerned-for-your-mental-health kind of look and confirmation that I am still the weird one in this relationship.  

 Jaime-47; Nick-0.

An open letter to Tank.

Dear Tank the Dog,

We adopted you about a year ago.  From day 1 you were my dog and, I your master.  I think Nick was a little jealous of those close bonds we formed so early on.  But what did we care?  We had each other.

It hasn’t been all peaches and cream, but you’ve generally been a great dog – with a few exceptions. It wasn’t until early one summer morning that I truly began to realize just *how* much you loved your momma.

I remember the day well.  You were being a terror – refusing to go potty outside, chewing on everything, and sneaking off when I wasn’t looking. I decided to put you in your crate – trying to salvage my last few minutes to get ready for work.

As I dragged you near the crate I couldn’t help but noticed your blankets seemed extra….fluffy. “FLUFFY? That’s odd”, I thought.  But I was determined that you would be spending the day in there wreaking no more havoc on my house.  That is, until something shiny caught my eye.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed a half chewed up picture of me had been lovingly nestled away in your blankets.  Confused, I started to pull both the picture and blankets out.  To my surprise I found a treasure trove of Jaime memorabilia – a dress, 1 sock, the picture, a ponytail holder, 2 different shoes and my favorite bra. And yeah, you read that right - an entire dress was in there.

It was 1 candle short of a shrine.

As I turned around in stunned horror, it was though you just HAD to go the extra step to prove your utter fixation with me. That’s right little puppy, you then proceeded to barf up a bunch of my panties.

There was an awkward moment where we both sat there looking at each other.  You, with a manic love in your eyes.  And me, with a new dawning that you might love me just a little too much.

Since then, you’re panty passion has never wavered.  Why just the other day you chewed on 3 more pair as though it was your own personal doggie feast.  Leaving my yard looking like a screwed up version of an easter egg hunt.

I want to scream “cut it out”! But I’m not disillusioned enough to think this letter will change your ways. Mainly because you are a dog and you can’t read. Now who’s the weirdo??

Sincerely,
 
Your Sketched Out But Ever Loving Momma
Jaime Mac