Labradoodle & Goldendoodle Forum
There is a little bit of freedom living in a town where you don’t know many of the people. I don’t have to worry about getting all dolled up when I go out to run errands or walk my dogs. I am definitely not a slob, but have been known to walk my dogs up at the park without putting too much thought into my hair or outfit. John took one look at my hair sticking up the other day and said I was starting to look like Don King, which caused me to start laughing and peaked Vern’s interest.
This is a complete misrepresentation, because I do not have a mustache!
As Vern danced around, I told John he didn’t like it when he insulted me, and John said he thought Vern was jumping for joy because someone finally told me the truth.
One night at dinner I was telling my family about a Dr. Phil show I had watched where some women had been stopped in their cars by a policeman who forced them to show him parts of their body to avoid getting a ticket. Well, I drive fast and I cannot afford any more speeding tickets, so I said, “I guess I am going to have to be prepared to flash my breasts so I don’t get a ticket,” and sure enough, faster than I could say, “Milk Duds,” someone piped in and said, “if I were you, I would think about replacing that sports bra of yours or pray it isn’t the Fashion Police that stops you.” After that remark, it turned into a live Comedy Roast with me being the one roasted and more than one joke about gravity. My least favorite one was someone said after I flashed the cop, he would probably say, “ma’am, I am going to have to ask you to put your boobs up!” In the end, the general consensus was that I needed to get something in writing from the cop BEFORE I showed him the goods.
Well, lately even I have to admit I look bad. My body is bruised in many places and I really hate to blame Fudge and Vern, but I must. We got the dogs a new floating duck toy and Fudge is obsessed with her new duck. In fact, I had to get another one for Vern so he could have it in his mouth longer than the amount of time it took Fudge to take it from him.
It even seems like she can tell the difference between her duck and Vern’s because if John accidentally throws Vern’s in the water for her to go fetch, she just looks at him like, “Vern can get his own duck. THROW MINE!” It also doesn’t matter where John throws Vern’s duck, somehow he manages to swim directly into Fudge’s 30 foot lead and get the both of them tangled up and sometimes Fudge can’t get to her duck because she is being drug around by Vern looking for his duck. Between untangling two dogs in the water and keeping track of both of those ducks, I have dinged myself against the boat more than once and it is only a matter of time before Vern tangles me up in Fudge’s line and pulls me under. I am sure if I get lucky enough to surface with a blue face and gasping for help, all John would say is, “Hey, Mama Smurf, I wondered where you were.”
Fudge also knows when the duck is not in use it is under the steering wheel well behind a clasped door and she has taken to pawing the door and sniffing under it to try and get the duck. I finally relented and gave her the darn duck and she promptly put it in her mouth and went to the front of the boat and tried to drop it overboard. Luckily, it ended up on the small lip in front of the boat, but I suspect she was trying to get me to fetch her duck and doesn’t care that I would have to jump off a moving boat to do it. It also seems to me that every time I have to get out of my seat and complain that I am tired of being the only one who is showing any concern about Fudge and her duck, the boat seems to pitch forward as if someone is trying to propel me into the water. Or course, when I voice my concerns to the Captain, he just smiles and assures me it is my imagination. Last week, I had to climb back up in the Pontoon boat to get Fudge’s duck and on the way back down, my left leg scraped the anchor and I can’t be sure, but I think I screamed out, “Mother Ducker!” I am now sporting a bruise the size of a dollar bill on my left thigh. I also can’t prove who is doing what, but every time I think both ducks should be out in the water one of them ends up on the boat with both dogs looking at me like, “someone needs to get the duck that’s on the boat.”
We had a lot of rain here lately and the other night we had a doozy of a storm. Vern has never let a little thing like pouring down rain stop him from having to go out in the middle of the night, but it does seem to require more thought on his part and impedes the whole process. First, there is the initial, “wow, I am getting wet standing here looking around,” followed closely by, “maybe it was just a false alarm,” and ending with, “do I or do I not want to go down those back steps in the dark or can I hold it?” Well, I don’t care what I have to do, but if Fudge or Vern wakes me up in the middle of the night, one of them is going to produce something liquid or solid before I go back to bed and risk being disturbed again. I have also found with Vern that if he fails the initial audition, he has no problem asking you for additional tryouts throughout the night until he is successful, so our goal is always to make it happen the first time. Unfortunately, as I was persuading Vern that it would be in his best interest to go down those steps, I slipped on one of the lower steps and down I went.
Apparently, slippery steps, bare feet, and a 100-pound dog pulling against you are not a good combination and the result was I ended up upended and wet and slightly battered. I will say it got the dog’s attention and they bounded right over top of me and both squatted and peed. It actually worked better than standing there yelling, “go potty, Vern,” numerous times, although I think I prefer our tried and true method. Thankfully, I was not hurt, just very wet, and proceeded to make my way back to the bedroom, change my clothes, and wake John up to tell him what happened and then pray the realization that he almost lost me did not keep him awake half the night. It didn’t, but then again, we all handle stress differently.
If seems as if every day, I am sporting another bruise and for many of them, I have no recollection as to how they got there. I am starting to think my two Doodles might be having the zoomies every night after I fall asleep and one of the zooms takes them over top of me in bed as I sleep. Surely, I would wake up, but then again, I seem to let a lot of things go when in comes to those dogs.
Comment
I love that Fudge knows which duck is hers! SMARTY PANTS FUDGE!
Oh Vern...Be a big boy and hold it until morning. Your mommy needs her rest!
See I was so worried I couldn't spell LOL.
If I wasn't worried about you I'd be LL. At any rate you do put up with a lot of things like Vern getting you up in the middle of the night. Imagine if he were to go to New Year's Eve or something.
I can tell you faster than you can say Jack Robinson ,or Don King, those ducks would be history in my house. I hate toys which only cause endless conflicts and work.
LOL, Laurie! I'm going to have a talk with Fudge & Vern, and warn them to be more careful around their mom. Not too many things make me laugh these days, I need you healthy and in one piece!
LOL, mother ducker, what an hilarious blog. Chance has taken to "dropping" his duck in the pool for me to fetch because of course he won't go it!
I love this blog Laurie! Hilarious! The descriptions about them and their ducks was my favorite. If only I could meet you all and take a ride on your boat someday.... :-)
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