Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
13 May 2016
Where's the Ball?
Nobody bossed them around today about which bathroom they had to use. They just worked it out for themselves. All the time, I tell Gustavo what a good girl he is, and most people think Otterpop is a boy. Nobody cares. Everybody finds a good spot to pee, sometimes they all share one tree. Or seaweed clump. Sometimes Banksy likes to scurry off into the bushes to go. Nobody cares.
We have a few major bipartisan issues in our little corner of the world. There's the Ball Party and the No Ball Party. Gustavo can sometimes get a little bit loud about it. "What's so great about the Ball? Chase ME! Chase ME!" he can scream, usually just into the wind.
Otterpop can get pretty worked up about the Ball. She's not rising above any issues ever, she's pretty obsessed about the Ball and can actually be kind of an ass about having everything her way. Banksy thinks the Ball is tremendous, and that it should rule the world. Everything about it is tremendous! But she doesn't make fun of Otterpop's tiny hands, or decide that Gustavo should go pee on some tree somewhere else and she doesn't give a crap about who marries who.
Everybody who wants the Ball gets a turn with the ball, and everybody runs around together and work it out. This is quite nice and lets me look for whales and dolphins and sometimes I run the other way when they're getting the ball and they can run faster than me but I'm cool with that.
They're pretty lucky, they don't have to worry about cops shooting them, or taking 3 buses to get where they have to be, and they have a house to go home to every evening that has 1 loveseat, 2 chairs, 2 dog crates, a futon, and a queen sized bed. Every single one of those things has a soft blanket on it and they can sleep wherever they want.
Sometimes there can still be bossy crap about the Ball. Or somebody wanted to sleep on somebody else's chair. They're good dogs, but they're far from perfect. I might yell at them, or the princess neighbor whose bedroom window looks straight down into my yard might yell about them barking or whatever then I freak out on her.
Settle down, everybody. We're all in this together and we have to work it out. Telling the neighbor she's a princess or that somebody can't have the Ball isn't worth it. So hard to remember! So hard. But we try. Maybe everybody should just try to live more like dogs. I'll try that today.
So where's the Ball you guys? Huh huh huh??
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