Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Weed and Windblown

This story is about a day that was much like many others. Alex had gone to school and work (at least, that's what she said she was doing...but seriously, why should I care? All I know is that when she's gone, I get my best sleeping done, but I digress) and I had stayed at the condo. Later in the afternoon, my roomie returned and informed me that we were taking a trip. After she finished changing, transferring her crap from her backpack to another bag and doing whatever else she just HAD to do right then (sometimes I hate her), Alex asked me if I was "ready to go".

Tangent: I hate it when she freaking asks me that. It's like wait, hold on, I need to make sure I got everything...I mean, what do I need with me? I could totally survive in the wilderness (and not because I am so fat that I don't need to eat every day like Alex says), but because I am one with nature. Seriously. It's because I practice Buddhism. Me and the Dahli go WAY back. Plus, I mean, I try to bring stuff with me whenever we go somewhere, but I have to keep it in my beard since I don't have any pockets. Every time I get something cool that I NEED, Alex takes it out and throws it back on the ground. Pisses me off. You never know when I will need that sticker or leaf or seed. Okay, I'll continue with the story at hand.

So I was already waiting by the door and we went out the door and got in the Cougar. We took a short drive to Jameson's house...it was only a few blocks away. I, of course, hung my head out the window to check everything out. This was my first trip to this part of town and I found out that Jameson had a roommate as well. Zeke the cat. I'd smelled his scent before and wasn't surprised to find that his looks matched what I'd previously concluded. He was gray sulky character with crazy eyes and bad manners. I knew trouble when I saw it. I figured it was best to avoid him and went about my business of meeting the furniture. I met Alex's mom's cats when I was younger, but never without a chaperon. Felines are not my cup of tea.

SO while I was busy getting familiar with the layout of the house, Jameson and Alex started smoking this funny smelling stuff. I knew better than to further investigate. Once, one of Brandon's roommates (not his human), blew the same type of smoke in my face. After a brief sneezing fit, I was struck with a mighty powerful thirst.

I tried to tell Brandon to get me some water, but when I tried to talk to him, no sound came out! I was really confused then. I mean, my mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish and NOTHING was coming out! God, I wish I had been under water. Would have helped my thirst. Brandon picked up on it though and filled up a huge plastic bowl with water. I drank all of it and immediately passed the F out. Anyways, point is I'd had some experience this weird stuff before. Brandon called it "getting high". I call it getting parched. And yeah, I was still rockin' the brown spot.

While Alex and Jameson were talking about Jack in the Box (I'm not sure who he is, but if I was stuck in a box, I'm pretty sure I could get out..apparently he has been in there for awhile though) and laughing hysterically (wish they wouldn't have been able to talk...) at nothing, I was further investigating the house, never looking directly at the cat. I prefer the "head in the sand" approach to undesirables. If you can't see them, they can't see you, right? I am so freaking smart sometimes, I even amaze myself.

In no time, Alex decided it was time for a nap. I was done anyways (it was getting harder to ignore the crouching Zeke following me around) so we hopped in the Cougar and took off. The car ride home was fairly uneventful. I got hand my head out the window like normal and assess the neighborhood. It wasn't until we turned in the parking lot to the condo that things began to go awry.

Now, I will say Alex had been trying to indicate our arrival and accompanying end to our car journeys by utilizing the fear method. When we were getting close to our destination, she liked to roll my window up a little to frighten me into putting my head back in the car. Soon, I figured out her tricks and realized she was just kidding. All I got from that was I better soak up all the wind in my face I could. Besides, it's hard to look sexier than a Martini with her beard whipping in the wind. Seriously. I've been compared to a blond in a convertible and between you and me, I'm pretty sure that blond knows who is hotter. Whose got no thumbs and is good looking? Me.

Have you ever seen those don't do drugs commercials on MTV? You know the ones that talk about how your reaction time slows down? Well, I used to think the writers of those were just amateurs, but lemme tell ya, they know their stuff. Even though no one blew any smoke in my face, I guess I still managed to breath some in. Maybe the cat did it. Not sure how, but I wouldn't put it past Zeke. I told you he was weird.

Anyways, when Alex began to "hint" that we were almost there, I didn't realize it as fast as I normally would. Plus, I was under the impression she was just kidding. Added to that was the fact that Alex just kept rolling it on up...until my head wouldn't come back in the car.

Now, I don't think either of us will ever know if what she did was intentional to make me better behaved or if she was just careless. I do know that she did not react the correct way. I mean, I am her roommate. We tell each other secrets...go on walks together...she picks up my poop...I allow her to live... Never will I forget what she did next. She started to laugh!!!

Man, I wasn't pissed before, but that made me angry. Apparently the dumbass couldn't find the right button either. She would roll it down a little, but then roll it up some more. I didn't cry because I'm a baller, but if Mocha would have been in there, you would have thought an ambulance was coming. Anyways, by the time everything got figured out, we got out of the car and Alex quit her giggling, then it was nearly dinner time. So I decided to be the bigger person (figuratively of course) and not be angry. I mean, it's not really her fault she's an idiot.

Or that's the conclusion my therapist and I came to at least. Until next time, friends, stay cool.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Beardless and Brown

*Indicates that you should see definitions below. I don't have time to put all kinds of random explanations in this thing. Deal with it.

I don't know if many of you follow dog grooming so I'll explain myself a little bit with a nice anecdote I came up with while I was using the vines (see previous post "The Day I Ate a Condom"). It's an oldie but a goodie. My mom told it to me. Okay, get excited people! I'm gonna blog.

One day, a long time ago, some of the humans were being socialized* together. After realizing that knitting is bored and chess caused physical violence (I told it was a long time ago), these humans decided to name groups of animals. Of course they started with the best group: canines. Thus came forth the variety of dog breeds.

Now, there is some other version of this like, all the dogs were building a tower trying to reach Heaven so God said we would all be different breeds, but I like this one better. The humans try to pass it off as some explanation of why they have different languages. I don't have the time to argue for historical accuracy so whatever. We're going with the first one.

Sometimes I think it is a great system. If Alex tells me that one of her companions has a pittbull, then I know what to expect (I'm going to be the smartest and best looking one there is the obvious conclusion. Other times, I hate that I'm supposed to be stereotyped as a certain kind of dog. As if the humans who declared "breeds" could actually put me in a class with other dogs! I know -I'm as full of contempt, disdain and Greenies as you are. Well, if you have good taste that is.

The type of dog I am is a miniature schnauzer. I believe I've already discussed this some. However, I have not mentioned that I have one characteristic that differentiates me from other four legged creatures (just for the purposes of this blog, pretend you don't know that I reek of awesome). Wait for it....


Oh yeah, baby. So all of you posers who say you are allergic to all dogs, you're not allergic to me. So please, feel free to thank your lucky stars. However, this does mean that my hair just keeps growing. Some people, not mentioning any names (roomie), suck at making sure that I am groomed* in a timely fashion (I live with her) and the long hair makes it where I can't see (Alex, if you can't see my eyes, then I can't see you. Jesus.).

Okay, I think you have been prepped enough. Let us commence with The Haircut Incident.

Whenever we were in college, Alex would have to go take a lot of tests around the end of every semester. She would be gone for a long time because she had to study (so she said) and then she would go out after she took her last tests because she had to relieve stress. I didn't mind the second part of the equation so much. Whenever she drinks then she can't feel how hard I accidentally (mwahahaha <-- evil laugh) bite her when we are playing.

For some reason (probably cause she's kind of dumb), Alex thought that a haircut appointment at 7:30 a.m. the day after her last final (the following drinking binge) would work out great. I don't know why I'm the only one who ever can see these things happen. Seriously. I lick my butt and I'm the smartest in this household? Come on.

Anyways, I was up and was ready to take care of business (one good thing about shitting in public; I never went anywhere again with out pooping beforehand). Alex did not wake up so easily unfortunately. Whenever she finally did get in motion, it seemed like she was having trouble walking. I was also glad that it was getting to where I couldn't see because, well, let's just say my roomie was not at her best looking that fine day. Nor at good looking, okay looking or anything that sounds like she was pretty. At all. In fact, she kinda looked like this.

But worse. And no smile (which might have made it better actually).

Tangent: Being the health nut I am, I like to run around alot in the great outdoors. By doing so, the stupid froo-froo haircut that is specific to schnauzers gets spotted with seeds, leaves, etc. They don't bother me so much, but my roomie hates vaccuuming (and that thing scares the living crap out of me so I hide whenever its time to clean the carpets) so she always tries to pick them out. It takes forever because of my sexy, silky smooth fur (better than mink, baby). This is crucial information.

Okay, so Alex can't walk, I can't see, but somehow we make it to the groomers. When we walk in, they get excited to see because, damn, I'm me and Alex hands off my leash to the clerk. As I'm shaking my shit out of the room, I overhear the guy at the front (also bearded so I think we connected a spiritual level) ask if I want my haircut in typical schnauzer fashion. I hear my roomie say no and start giving instructions. I wasn't too worried though. I mean, you can't really mess this up, if you know what I'm saying. ;)

So I wait awhile and they give me treats and I don't get too suspicious whenever the groomer spent extra time on me because I love hanging out with me. Eventually it is 4:30 and time for pickup. Alex arrives.

I hear her and get happy because I know Brandon is with her and he LOVES me. I mean, they stayed together way longer than they would have if I hadn't been around. He would have tossed her aside in no time, but my charm kept him coming back. Alex disagrees, but whatever. I say just let me have it. I mean, listen to what she had done to me.

Anyways, the clerk gets me and puts my leash on and I run out, expecting to hear compliments all around about how good I look and how much I was missed. Instead, I hear Alex, my own roommate, say, "That's not my dog."

The clerk checks again and I'm getting pissed. This is what I wagged my nub for? You have got to be kidding me. No one had let me look at my reflection so I had no idea what anyone was talking about. I was trying to figure out why Alex had put her hand over her mouth in shock. I mean, yeah I felt a little bit more breezy, but it was probably just a little shorter than normal. Plus, my hair had been so long I hadn't been able to see before so that's probably why she didn't recognized me. Little did I know that staring back at her was this:

Yes, you really just saw that. Did I mention that it was December?! Yeah. She had told the guy to "cut it all off". What she didn't realize was that it was not clear that she only meant the skirt. So now I was bald with a chilly ass all because somebody still wasn't sober the next morning. Alex's dad told me I looked homeless. Others said they'd never seen a white miniature Pinscher! It was horrible. Alex laughed the whole way home and then made me wear a damn bow on Christmas Eve!

You are probably wondering what the brown spot is on my forehead. In case I hadn't already had enough drama in my recent life, Alex decided to spice things up a little more. And she is totally to blame. I mean, I was just hanging out. It wasn't like I shaved HER head or anything.

About two weeks (and one guy) later, the second incident occurred. Alex wanted to dye her hair. While she was doing this, I kept a close watch for a chance at payback (and I needed her body heat -I was freezing all the time now). Alex was putting the dye in her hair in the bathroom and I thought it would be a good-no, scratch that-a great idea to stand in between her legs. She kept getting annoyed with me and her lack of movement which she deemed my fault (I know, right? I'm the only one who takes responsibility for their actions. I mean, I didn't tell the cashier that she had pooped in PetCo).

Anyways, I was just hanging out, like I said, and trying to stay warm when she put some of the dye on my head! Guess she thought if I had spots people wouldn't think I was a Pinscher. So I was now bald and had a brown stain on my head AND had to take a bath! I have never entered a bathroom without being forced to again.

This did not dispell the comments on the wrong dog breed. Nope, people just kept telling me I had dirt on my head. Some tried to get it off. Her new boyfriend told everyone about how we matched. One person called PETA. I started to go with the agent, but how would I have gotten my revenge? Justice is what I wanted. And justice is what I got. Ask Alex about the time the bird attacked her. She'll tell you what's up.
I even had to start seeing a therapist because of my tantrums. They would happen whenever I say any dog with more hair than me (so basically when I saw any dog), I wanted to fight them. If Alex hadn't broken it up, I totally could have taken this wolf. It's about the size of the fight in the dog, you know?

Anyways, turns out I had daddy issues or something. Wish I could go into my therapy sessions but it's time for Beneful. Until next time...

Being socialized: whenever you are forced to hang out with inferior creatures of your species. Ex. Alex thinks she needs to make sure I'm being socialized by saying, "Be a sweet puppy" whenever some idiot continues to sniff my ass long after you could call it a greeting and she doesn't want me to growl.
Groomed/grooming: when your human drops you off for a trim and you have listen to all these other mutts whine and moan about getting their haircut and then you get happy when the groomer says, "We've got a bleeder!" because you know that some idiot didn't stand still. Pussies.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Day I Ate a Condom

So, yeah...I know that I've already written my first post, but I figured that this story is an attention getter. The sooner I get fans, the better. No, seriously...I'm too awesome not to have a following. I mean, come on. Look at me. That's right. Eat your heart out, Lassie.

Before reading this story, I must tell you that I was really bored that day, no one was, ahm, paying attention to me, and I was barely a year old. Okay, enough disclaimers. Here it goes. Oh and don't judge me. Okay...now we are really ready. Or at least as ready as you can be when discussing the digestion of latex.

I remember that day like it was yesterday...it was a warm, um, crap. Whatever. You don't need to know the day. It was a long time ago and it was in the afternoon. What you do need to know is that Alex told me that morning that she was going to be getting off work early. Yawning, I replied with my usual "You are such an idiot and I don't know why I tolerate your existence sometimes" look. Then, she told me the great news and I understood. We were going to PetCo.

I had heard tales around the apartment complex from other dogs. Mocha, a male Schitzu (right? I mean, how manly can you be with a frickin' bow in your hair? Geez), had said it was pretty sweet, except for the clothing and accessories section. I nearly called him a liar when he said there was an actual buffet (!) of dog snacks that you could try before you buy. That's right. I said it. Let's take a minute for this to sink in.

Okay, back on track...so when Alex mentioned that our afternoon would include a trip to a place that can only be described as heaven-like, I was pumped. She headed off to class and I stored my energy up by sleeping most of the day in preparation of the fun ahead. Around 2pm-ish, Alex came home. Unfortunately, she was not alone.

Now, I'm going to skip through the details here. I might think she's dumb sometimes, but I do love my roomie. Let's just say that I was disappointed and attempting to express my frustration while she was otherwise occupied. I mean, do you KNOW how much fun it is to chew up a paperback novel? Or even homework for Agronomy 205? Maybe you haven't experienced it, but I can tell you that I have. It's amazing. Totally compensates for any guilt you may later feel that your roommate has to tell the professor that her dog actually did eat her homework. The point is, I hadn't chewed anything up that day and let me tell you...I wasn't the strongly disciplined dog of the world that I am today. No, ma'am. I was weak. There were lots of "accidents" during that time of my life. I'm not proud. However, on that day, I was great. Then she brings a boy home. It really was her fault. Maybe if she wasn't such a baby about having "pillow talk" then none of this would have happened. Whatever. Least we both knew I peed on the boy's pillow, like, 2 weeks before. That's right, bitches -I laugh last. Write that down.

So after spending some time on other activities, Alex asks me if I'm ready. Are you kidding me? I've been waiting on her forever (well, heehee, not quite that long, if you know what I mean). I jumped around as she tried to put my leash on (ugh, I hate that thing). I finally sit (and NOT because I was repeatedly asked) because my stomach felt kinda weird...I couldn't figure out what was going on. I figured I'd walk it off. Nothing was stopping me now. I was going to PetCo.

Alex very politely rolled the window down for me and I got to stick my head out the window on the ride there. Man, I love doing that. That day, though, I couldn't quite enjoy it. My stomach was still feeling weird and had started to make some weird noises. Fortunately, Alex was singing (that's what she calls her wailing) and couldn't hear me. I knew that if I was going to enjoy my time in heaven, I was gonna have to take care of some business soon. VERY soon.

We pulled up in the parking lot and GASP! It was all concrete!!! There was a tiny little median with a tree and packed dirt. Now, personally, I like to use these vines that they planted in my old complex. Actually, they have them in my new place too. I don't know what it is, but every time I step in those, I have the urge to...Whoa. Sorry, total tangent. Anyways, I can tell you that its a good thing PetCo is awesome on the inside because the outside is lacking.

I didn't get to relieve myself outside between my horror at the conditions of the facilities and Alex pulling on my leash. We get inside and I swear, the angels were singing and the red and blue neon looked like the most majestic sunrise you've ever seen. I was immediately less aware of my need to, well, you know, and consumed with the urge to explore. Everything was going great until a sign appeared in front of us: Apparel & Accessories.

Now, the floor of PetCo is tiled and you can't get much traction on it. Believe me, I tried...Alex was dragging me along, not even noticing that I didn't want to go down there. Well, I gave her something to notice. Mwahahaha

In my experience, I believe in preventative measures. Now, it is certain that she was going to stuff me into another sweater or give me a pink collar like Mocha's (Dude, I know.), but she had that look in her eye. While she was admiring the fashions, I marked my territory. I mean, I really marked it. haha Good thing I did too. I would like turn your attention to Exhibit A. Need I say more?

Figured out what was upsetting my stomach, too. Upon further examination, I realized that it was shiny because some of it was wrapped in latex. Believe me, this poop was strange looking. And it did not smell nice either.

As the scent wafted over to Alex, she turned and her jaw dropped. There, in the middle of aisle, was a pile of dog crap that was ribbed for her pleasure and it was obvious who the culprit was. I haven't seen my roomie move fast very often, but that day, she could have beaten Michael Johnson. She gave my leash a good pull and started toward the front. The one thing she didn't know was that the Exit was right past the cashiers.

While we were leaving, a clerk asked her if she found everything okay. I was all about getting out of there or at least checking out that buffet thing, but Alex decided to listen to her conscience. Before we ran out the door, I heard her say, through gritted teeth, "Clean up on aisle 3."

It was 2 years before I got to go to PetCo with Alex again. Thank God for her parents. :)

About Me

Let's see...where should I start? Please forgive me as this is the first time I've ever had a blog. It took me quite awhile to learn to type since I am without thumbs. I guess I should introduce myself first. Hi, my name is Martini Olivia (leave it alone - I didn't pick it!) and I am a white Miniature Schnauzer. Do not be fooled by the reference to small stature -I can promise you that if we ever met, you wouldn't believe how big I actually am! I feel that it is all about presence. Plus...well, let's just say that it's not the most accurate description. Some would say it is a weight problem (I know Alex sure does), but I completely disagree. I'm in a life long love affair and my partner is anything I can consume. I wouldn't quite limit it to food. But that's another story. We'll come back to that.

I mainly reside in Austin, Texas, but also have a country home with my roommate's parents. I have a two bedroom apartment all to myself...well, besides my human, Alex. Here's a picture of both of us. I know some of you out there are visual learners. Hopefully, this will help you keep things straight.

Yeah, I know it's a Christmas picture. Please disregard that sweater...Sigh. We will talk more about clothes later.

What was I saying...ah, yes, my human. I know, I know -you thought it was a boy. Got ya. (Besides do you really think a boy is dumb enough to create a blog and devote it completely to what is most likely his dog's perspective on life? Exactly.) Nope, Alex is a girl. The majority of the time we get along okay. Somtimes, she tries to pretend -ha-that she is in charge. Go figure! Crazy humans and their thumbs.

We have both agreed that it is better not to act like I am her child. I think it's demeaning and Alex has some sort of issue with the fact that her biological clock is starting to tick louder so no saying "Martini's mom" (oops, probably wasn't supposed to mention the clock thing...aw, screw it). The term we decided on after a very democratic process (everytime Alex said something I didn't like, I licked my ass so she caught my drift pretty quick) is roommate. Now, even though she pays the bills, I think that my role in the relationship is MUCH more important. After all, I decide who may enter.

What else? I'm 28 right now...in dog years of course. I didn't feel like having a party this past year (being so close to 30 and whatnot), but man, was my 21st birthday AWESOME. I had a Mexican Martini theme and my friends brought their owners and I got drunk and passed out around midnight. Didn't puke though. I'm a baller like that. Beer is nothing when you say hello by smelling butts.

Just to give you a little better idea what I'm all about, I thought I would share with you some of my favorite things: food, attention, talking, being a monster, food, welcoming people by barking (try it some time -the humans will freak), food, and hanging out at my local dive bar, Bull McCabe's. Other than that, I guess I'd like to say welcome and enjoy. I'll try to keep you updated with everything I'm doing. We'll see how it goes.