Nicknames can be Lyrical

Roni has acquired many nicknames since he first came into our family. The first one was Bubba. Don't ask me why, because I couldn't tell you. Now he has Bubba, Bubbath, Subbath (shortened to Bub and Sub), the Ronester, Loni, and the Bub--which is why 'The Bub' is me.

When I drive around in my car, I tend to put his name/nicknames in all of the songs that come on the radio. Which leads me to believe that I am obsessed with my dog. For example, Christmas has just passed, and the song 'Jingle Bell Rock' would come on the radio. So I would sing "Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Bub. He is a Bub and he is a Sub. He is a Bubba and he is a Sub. Now the Jingle Bub has begun..." and so on. The lyrics make absolutely no sense whatsoever. I think that is why I enjoy it so much! It has gotten to the point where my husband thinks I am more in love with Roni than him, because I used to put my husband's name in the songs instead of the dog's. Did I mention I do this while I am alone in the car too?

I blame my father for this, because when I was little (and actually still to this day) he put my name in all the songs. I only had one nickname though: 'Big.' Roni has several, so at least I change things up a bit. I now know that my dad did/does it because he loves me very much, because that is why I do it to Roni.

So I ask of you, today when you are driving home or to wherever it is you are going, think of someone you love very much (human or animal) and put their name into a song. Don't be afraid of sounding fooilsh, because you most definitely will. It will put a smile on your face, and on the face of the one you are singing about.

Rolling in the grass

There have been a few times where Roni has decided to roll around in poop. Why dogs do this, I will never know. It seems to me that our dog does it more than any other dog I know. Sometimes I think Roni does it just to get back at us for leaving him home alone for several hours. Which brings me to what my husband and I call: The Worst Night of Our Life.

We were out the night of Thanksgiving and were planning on doing some Black Friday shopping the next morning...something I swore I'd never do because a)I worked in retail and it was horrible and b)I don't like getting up early. Nonetheless, there was a deal on a TV and we wanted to get my parents one.

Anyway, we get back home a little later than we had planned. We were tired, but we still of course had to let Roni get out and run around because otherwise he would keep us up all night long. So we bundled up and started walking.

We let him off the leash on the dike like we normally do. He's running around having a great time. All of a sudden, he stops, buries his nose in the ground, and then, before we can even think about grabbing him, he rolls neck first into the ground. At that point, we knew he most definitely rolled in poop...AGAIN. What we didn't know was that this was the mother of all poop-rolls.

He comes running back towards us and passes us. He crop dusts us. He smells horrendous. At this point I am thinking there is no way in hell I am getting up and going shopping because I knew we would have to go home and give him a bath and not be going to sleep any time soon.

We continue walking. Somehow we got the leash on him without having to really touch him--he was covered in poo. Colin (bless his heart) picked him up and threw him in the shower. When I say this was the mother poop-roll, I mean it. Usually we can stand it enough to rinse him and clean him up by hand. This time we had to actually turn the shower on and close the shower door and let the shower do all the work.

Just when we think its bad enough, Roni shakes in the shower. Poop is now all over our walls in addition to our dog. I want to cry/throw Roni out into the cold and leave him there. Instead, I start laughing. I mean really...Are you kidding me?! Here Roni was having a great time outside, and now here he is trapped in the shower not even knowing how much we "hate" him (I say "hate" because I never really hate him. I can't.). Which is why I laughed. Roni is sitting in our shower getting water blasted at him and there is nothing he can do about it. He hates being wet. He doesn't know what is going on. It was funny to me at that point.

So we manage to finally get him cleaned up, get ourselves cleaned up, get the shower/walls cleaned up and get into bed around 2am. I do not say goodnight to Roni, however. I am still mad at him for being a disgusting mongrel. Though at some point in the night I woke up and felt bad for being mean to him! I felt bad! When he was the one who got poop all over the place! Uhg. He is lucky he is cute.

Oh, and the next morning we got up early and got the TV. All is right with the world...until he rolls again.

The Cardboard Box

Just another morning where I wake up to find another thing ripped to shreds. It's still a little dim in the apartment; that coupled with not having my glasses on makes it hard to discern exactly what these pieces are. There are a few here and there, and then I see what looks to be the explanation. I trip over a dog bone, hit my hip on the end of the couch, and finally make it close enough to see what is on the floor.

At this point Roni is trying his hardest to stay away from me, but I sense that he wants to see my reaction when I realize what he has done. I turn to face him and he backs away, almost runs. I turn back to the pile of rubbish.

I now see that he has completely demolished what used to be a cardboard box. Granted, there was nothing in the box at the time, but that's not to say it had potential. It was to be used to ship a text book back to a rental company. I wasn't entirely angry with Roni, but I thought, "Why, after all this time, did you choose to eat this box today?" It had been sitting in the same spot for months. There were plenty of dog bones, food, water, and even other non-dog items strewn about the apartment for him to enjoy. Nonetheless, I picked up the pieces and went about my morning, only slightly annoyed.

This is not the first time this has happened. There have been many pillows, couch cushions, socks, shoes, papers, rugs, and other belongings in the box's wake.

After picking up the pieces, I turned to my husband and said, "We should start a book called 'Sh*t My Dog Destroyed' and put pictures of everything he's ruined in it." So, I started this blog.