Monday, May 12, 2008

He likes fresh sheets

It’s 9:51 Sunday night.

I’m aimlessly wandering the Internet and half listening to the TV when I get the feeling I’m being watched.

It’s Gromit, Genius Dog. Sitting two feet from the couch, willing me to do his bidding.

“What?" I say. "What do you want?”

“Well, Heather, I'm glad you asked. I'd like that crotch-fart Hillary Clinton to drop out of the race before she single-handedly destroys the Democratic party. World peace would be great but I’ll settle for those fuckos in Burma getting their shit together to let the U.N. do its job. Oh, and tater tots. I need tater tots.”

That’s not what he said. But he did start barking. So maybe.

He’s not barking at Jim. He’s barking at me. Except it’s not so much barking as bitching.


This goes on for what seems like forever but is probably just five minutes when Jim says, “I think he wants you to make the bed.”


On Sundays the sheets and blankets go in the wash. And sometimes they stay there until someone who is ready to go to bed starts complaining.

Usually that someone is Jim.

Gromit follows me into the laundry room to supervise the extraction and gathering up of various bits of bedding and then it’s upstairs we go where he's all but tap tap tapping his impatient little paw while I quickly make things comfy and organized for the night.

I give him the Okay and he hops up, settling in with a loud groanish sigh that is more "It's about time" than "Thank you."

And then I am dismissed, presumably to make tater tots. Or at least e-mail those fuckos in Burma.
I am listening to: The Devil Wears Prada
I am reading: Front Row at the White House by Helen Thomas
And I am: Here to serve


miss kitty said...

We don’t mind dirty sheets;
We can drink from tiny teats;
We don’t bark like a retard;
We don’t poop out in the yard.


Anonymous said...

Genuis Dog.
Virgin Dog.
I am dog!
And yes Jim knows,
He hears my call
He knows when I'm serious,
And he knows when I'm kidding
And you my dear Hedy
know the truth of my "bidding"
As the universe chooses
What I have and ain’t gots
I know how to get
My own tater tots
I am genius.
I am Virgin.
I am Dog.


the dilf said...

I keep waiting to hear from you on your job search. Any cool companies? Any good ideas? Getting anywhere? Or does it just suck?

Hedy said...

Miss Kitty, you made me laugh out loud for the first time in a week. Thanks. And Grommie, I had no idea you were an accomplished poet as well - although I think Miss Kitty's little ditty brought it out in you.

And Dilf: The job search is not quite a full-on search yet. As you can imagine, my heart isn't exactly in this whole 'corporate marketing' thing any longer so I'm cobbling together some freelance work for the time being. And it doesn't suck. At all.

Anonymous said...

Miss Kitty, Miss Kitty
Inspired with her ditty
I wish her kind fate
Miss Kitty don't hate
This dog is'a lovin'
Like brownies from oven
I seek to appease

I am genius
I am Virgin


gromit has little paws?? Did he see that part written in this post??

You know what they say..small paws...small..
:) ALways,

Anonymous said...

Little paws mean little what?


Why do they taunt me so?

What does it mean if I have little paws? And by the way... my paws are not so little. In fact they are rather large.

One might say they are monster mammoth paws. Super duper large, heavy, pounding, dangerous paws.
In fact, if my paws were a reflection of the size of... oh lets say... my penis... yeah why not... the size of my penis.
If my paws were a reflection of the size of my penis, I would be one serious penis draggin' puppy! I mean I have some paws on me!

But I digress... what does it mean if I have big paws?! Why don't I know these things!?!?

In the dark...


miss kitty said...

You don't know these things because dogs are dumb.


Anonymous said...

I'm not studip... am I Hedy?
I am sad

molly gras said...

Damn, that's one stately-looking dog -- no wonder he demands/deserves clean sheets!!