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Tuesday, September 3, 2013

NOOOO!!!

Wow...life just gets more interesting.  I've had two "firsts" in the last twenty four hours.  Sis's dad left yesterday to go out of town for a few days so as a result I was doing his deal with her after he left.  They have all these little rituals, and frankly, I'm not on board for all of them but I do try.  We walked or attempted to, until the lady across the streets laughter and yelling scared Sis, and then I had to go pick up her bad old self because she planted her paws and simply would. not. move.  Nope.  Not budging.  I tried everything.  After I carried her a little ways, she was OK.  We went her way.  Everything was her way.

Then at bedtime, against my better judgement, I put on her flashing red atomic collar, and let her go "alleying", all by herself.  Her dad let's her do this every night and thinks that because she has a flashing red collar on, she's impervious to someones front and back tires.  I say" not on your life, buddy" but so far, so good.  So, I let her go last night.  I hated every minute of it, but I let her.  So, now it's bedtime, she's lying on her bed chewing her bones, and I'm ready for bed.  Alarms on, all is good.

At some point I hear her whine but I'm asleep so I blow her off......for awhile...all is quiet.  Then she starts to howl....like she's been left in the woods, all alone, no friends, no family, no food.  All by her lonesome. Plaintive...lonely...sad...until I yell "Sis, NOOOO", twice, and then she shuts up.  What the hell, Sis.   It's 3:30AM...you're killing me here.

Cut to this morning.  Sis is all good, we do our thing, I hop in the shower and am showering along and notice I am not showering alone.  Minor freakness.  There is a small 2 inch baby geko lizard in there with me--the see through kind with the spots--and I hate those.  Do I grab the sprayer and shoot him down the drain....will he just crawl right back up?  Do I grab him and throw him in the toilet and flush him?  Whadaya doooo here?                                                


Since I hated all those options, I just showered real fast, dried off, and told him he best 1) stay in the corner and 2) not be there by the time I got dressed, and he was.  Now what?

I decided I definitely could not commit murder (toilet flush) first thing in the morning so I grabbed him, all wiggly and squirmy, and ran to the front door.  Almost barfing, I yanked it open, put him on the fern on the front porch, and slammed the front door.  Then I ran to wash my hands.

Eeewww, reptiles. If tomorrow morning starts like this, I'm getting back in bed.  Period.



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