Please don’t call the cops.

It is open window weather here in south Georgia (ducks all my yankee brethren who are still buried under snow) which in this house is both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing- I have three dogs. No matter how many times a day I vacuum, sweep, mop, febreeze, burn candles, buy plugins- it smells like dog. Open windows provide a welcome break from that.

Another blessing- those three dogs? They can go outside. Praise Jesus they can go outside!

That blessing is a double edged sword however comma because Ninja wakes up each morning hell bent on driving me insane. She is a big fan of chewing and tugging on things that are attached to the back wall of the house.

Little things like the wires coming out of the house and going into some grey box, the telephone wire she ripped completely out of the wall, the directv (cue all the dish network spam) that she chewed a off a chunk of, and lastly the hose that she slowly but surely tore pieces off of until there was only four inches left.

It’s only a matter of time before I look out the window and I see roast Ninja in the middle of the yard with little wisps of smoke rising from her smoldering body. I will be saddened, for sure, but not the least bit surprised.

So to avoid the roast Ninja scenario, I bring them back inside. This is when the open windows really create a potential issue.

At any given moment to the random passerby, I could easily sound like I’m running an illegal dog fighting ring in my living room.

Bronco oddly enough is the quietest of the bunch. Ginger likes to stand on the sidelines and bark and loudly as possible and Ninja? Ninja sounds like she’d love to rip your face off. I can’t even imagine what is sounds like to a person who isn’t fairly certain she’s not going to do just that.

And if it isn’t dog fighting, it’s the yelling.

I’m just waiting for either a neighbor or once again the random passerby to call the cops to my house on suspicion of abuse.  On a typical day you can hear most of these following statements:

We do not bite legs. Get your teeth off my leg, now. Get your teeth off his leg. I said now.

So help me god if you jump on me again….

STOP JUMPING ON ME!!!!

No, my neck is not a chew toy.

GO. TO. YOUR. ROOM. NOOOOOWWWWW.

So help me god if you jump on me again…

Get your teeth off of her.

OFF THE BED. OFF. THE. BED. NOW.

GOTOYOURROOMGOTOYOURROOMGOTOYOURROOM

Where the hell did you get a cucumber?

Let go of his neck.

What part of no teeth do you not understand?

YOU WILL STAY IN YOUR ROOM AND I DO NOT CARE HOW MUCH YOU WHINE AND CRY ABOUT IT!

How the hell did you get that apple?

So help me god if you jump on me again…

And if you’ve ever heard my voice you know it is no near quiet so you can only imagine how loud it is when I’m yelling.

I implore all of south Georgia- if you happen to pass my house, please realize that I’m screaming at dogs, not people, and really they deserve it.  I mean seriously, how many times to have to ask for them not to use me as a jungle gym, my internal organs can only take so much.

 

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About Amanda Broyles

Amanda is amazing. Amanda is spectacular. Amanda is humble. Amanda is also a full time college student so take pity on her and don't complain when her TV reviews aren't up immediately following an episode.
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One Response to Please don’t call the cops.

  1. serendipitie says:

    ❤ Crying. Tears. Can't speak. Can only laugh.

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