Grumble. Worst part (of many) of having a ‘real dog’ is the WALKING. Little ones don’t care about long walks. Big ones, like my Black Beast, require them. No matter what the weather is. Rain, snow, gloom of night. You get the picture.
Me, I like the walks on the 75 degree sunny days. Not too hot, not cold. ZERO precip.
Otis? He likey the COLD! He saw the snowflakes this afternoon and was looking forward to the Big Walk! I put on 3 layers of clothing, snow boots, hat, gloves…saddled my horsey and out we went.
J-O-Y! He literally galloped down the street! He looked like a 105 lb. black rein-dog. Paused every 10 feet or so to turn around and GRIN his Lab grin at me! His thought bubble said “I f*cking LOVE the snow!” Made me envision his ancestors who would jump into the cold Labrador waters and help their Masters with the fishing nets. Otis would have stolen some of the catch for himself though 😉
I think Otis needs to live in a Lab Commune:
You wanna live with over 20 other dogs? On acres of land? No sidewalks, no leashes in sight? You want to chase rabbits and squirrels and CATS? Cool, ’cause we’ve got ’em. We’re Labs so it’s strictly No Kill, just capture ’em with our soft Labbie mouths. You wanna eat whatever you want, whenever you want? No silly 2 cup limits. We’re LABS! We’re STARVING all the time! You wanna chew stuff? You can! We all do! We’re LABS! Shoes, toys, dining room chairs? Have at it! We’ll help! Wanna wrestle? YES! Wanna run FAST, no leash? Dude, this is the place for you! At night, it’s real queen sized beds! No one says DOWN or OFF to us here!
Heaven, Otis style.
And, more specifically…Hell is the Supermarket Before a Storm in NORTHERN VIRGINIA. And, by “storm” I mean that we have an 80% chance of an ENTIRE INCH of snow tomorrow! Alert the media! Stock up on toilet paper and bread!
Needed a couple of things that I had ADD’d from my earlier trip to the store…I have a LIST for goodness sake…why can’t get simply get every item on it?! grumble. It was 2:40 and I needed to be in the carpool line for the 3pm dismissal. No problem. Thought I would even have time to read a trashy magazine, kwim? Hell no. Place was a zoo. Couldn’t even dream of getting into a regular line. And the ‘Express Lines’ were a joke. So, against all better judgement, I trudged to the Self-Checkout lines. And there they were…WTH?
An elderly couple. Checking out via ‘U-Scan’…and they had PRODUCE! WTF? There are unwritten rules, folks:
- No Alcohol. Otherwise, it’s ‘please wait for cashier assistance’…and the ire of those waiting behind you.
- No Produce. You have to either know the item’s code for it to be weighed OR find the code in the oh-so-easy-to-use (snort) looker-upper-thingy. OR, look out, it’s ‘please wait for cashier assistance’…and muttering patrons behind you. (life is easier for people like me who shun all green items)
- Credit Cards Only. I watched some clown stuffing crinkled bills into the cash thingy and dropping coins in too. It’s amazing he lived thru the Death Rays I burned him with.
- Item Limit (15 or fewer please). The more items you have to scan, the more room for errors. And, ‘please wait for cashier assistance’…and RAGE.
- Age Limit. I never really thought about it before today. Usually old folks are too intimidated to even venture into the Self-Checkout so it’s not an issue. But, I think the limit should be maybe 65 or 70?
So, the old folks were, predictably, slower than slow. The machine was annoyed too. “Please remove your green bell pepper” (pause) “Please REMOVE your F*CKING green bell pepper!!” As I have said, I love old people. I want to be one someday. But, I hope to know that I am old and behave accordingly. I shall send one of my servants to the store for me. Especially if there is a storm coming.