Adama (3) appetizers (5) beauty (7) beef (6) birthday (2) books and writing (14) busy body home life (140) chicken (29) crappy crafting (10) current events (1) dessert (2) drinks (9) fitness (62) food (127) holidays (11) lamb (1) life hacks (1) lists (12) me (39) med (1) media (33) oh baby (117) one-dish (26) paleo (7) pasta (9) pets (38) phone (2) pork (11) randoms (8) raves and reviews (55) salad (4) seafood (19) sick (3) side (1) sides (14) snacks (4) sorrow (3) soup (9) todd (3) travel (7) veggie (23) weather (16)

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

This GF MFer.

I mean, would you just look at that guy? If he was selected to go on America's Next Top Model, he'd win. For one thing, there'd be no requirement for a makeover. If anything, those morons would be rallying for a makeunder in an attempt to sabotage what I'm sure would end up a flawless portfolio.

Everytime I think of a model's portfolio I think of that scene in The Great Muppet Caper where Miss Piggy shows Lady Holiday her, well, portfolio.

Anyways, this sporty son of a bitch (that's not cussing, that is just stating a fact). We spent the night over at some friends' house to celebrate the 4th of July, and they have a pool. We brought the dog because WHAT COULD GO WRONG amiright, and some youngsters had a blast throwing toys in the pool once they realized that this dog would chase anything, into anywhere. I mean, this is a dog who literally wants to chase bullets.

So for the entire afternoon the dog was hounded by kids and goaded into jumping into the pool over and over and over again. Then at night after the kids left, Alex went to bed and the wine started flowing in earnest, and we ladies had some fun jumping into the pool, Patton chased US into the pool. All night. Every goddamn time we'd jump in the pool, Patton would be all "WELL DAMN HUMAN NO DROWNING ON MY WATCH."

Hey, hey there. Did I ever talk about on here how Patton once tried saving Todd from the pool at his parents' house? Yeah, that's a thing. That's a thing that happens. So Todd was hanging in the pool and that was okay, Patton was still sort of pacing around the pool all quelle horreur, my master needs me but how can I herd him without drowning. But it was okay.

THEN Todd decided he wanted to swim a few freestyle strokes and Patton was like WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU and leaped into the pool, chasing Todd down the length of the pool. Todd describes what happens next as such: "So he's swimming up to me, and his claws are digging into my chest, but then he put his teeth around my shoulder by my neck, so at that point I was like, I'm just going to go with it." And then Patton, with 6'7" Todd in his mouth, turns and drags him to the steps. So you know, Patton is a lifeguard. Just one with wildly inappropriate guidelines as to what constitutes drowning.

Now before you start injecting reason and logic into this blog post, because why the hell would I do that, the reason we brought Patton along was so we could sleep over. The whole idea was to put him in our guest room while people swam, and then let him out while we were done. But in the first five minutes of doggy introductions, so he could sniff and say hi to everyone, one of those kids threw something in the pool, and that was it.

There were some other things like Patton running into a jumping cholla bud and Todd having to painstakingly pluck out every single thorn (Jumping cholla is the palo verde beetle of plants out here, just a total asshole), but for the most part, the day and evening were punctuated with the intermittent splashing of a 100lb dog jumping into the pool. The water displacement all over the deck was unreal.

The next day, Patton could barely walk. Upon closer inspection we realized that at some point that afternoon or evening, he'd cut one of his rear paw pads on the flagstone that surrounds the pool. But regardless of that, he kept jumping in to "save us" from the water. Repeatedly. Like, his theme song should be "500 miles" by the Proclaimers. For more reasons than just the repetition, or the catchiness, or the devotion the song describes.

He hobbled around for a couple of days, and then that photo was taken, that sporty as all get out dog, happy as a pig in mud, happy with his mangled toy, something else to chase. I love this damn dog. If there's a better one out there, then no. No, sir, I do not accept that possibility. Now, good day, sir, and kindly look at that happy as hell dog once more, because he's America's next top model.

No comments:

Post a Comment