Doggie new name = Satan

I went to the vet today because my super smart dog decided to jump out of the second story window on Saturday morning around 1am. This all started on Friday so I'll start there.

Once upon a time on a beautiful fall afternoon, my fiance was arriving home from work just before me. This is a rare occurance, and I was delighted to be on my merry way home. When she walked in the door she noticed a pungent smell. It was an obvious smell and one that is enough to make anyone gag. Ahhh.. yes the wonderful smell of DOG SHIT. So our special (read: special ed) doggie had taken a dump in her crate (read: cage). She was apparently upset and huddled in the back corner of the crate, almost like a child cries when they are sitting in diapers filled with their own feces. I arrived shortly after her noticing and getting over her initial aggervation. Just in case you didn't know that a good thing or it would be something to the effect of "it's your stupid dog! clean it yourself!". However she helped me clean it up and once again we were all happy.

Moving forward an hour, we decided to go out for a nice dinner together, which is another rare occurance. We crated the dog back up and made way for some delicous grub at the local pub. While eating, a strange man lacking his lower front teeth decided to abruptly end conversation with his wife (read: super hillbillies). He said something to my fiance like "so how are you beef tips?". I was sort of shocked and had to hold back my increasing desire to say some rash comment like, "you'll never know!" or better yet "shut your stupid pie-hole you no teeth, lisping, smelly hick!". However, I just looked over at her like "Yeah honey! How are those tasty beef tips?". BAD PLAN!

This ended up starting an hour long conversation regarding his war verteran history. Now if I hadn't been doing the dinner thing just to make sure I had some "quality time" (read: ass kissing), then I might have enjoyed these stories. BUT, my current situation was one of delicacy, for I didn't want to rush things but I did want to get done and be on my way to hang with the guys. This guy was ruining all of my plans. He wouldn't shut up! Anyways an hour later we were on our way home and I was speeding to get there and drop her off, tuck her in, and get on with my plans.

We arrived home only to find that same lingering smell. Thinking that this was just some left over reminence I proceeded without hesitation. This only made things worse when I realized my worst fears had begun. Not only was I running behind to be out with the guys, but the dog had once again shit (COWPILE) and pissed in her crate! DAMN IT! Veins were exposed from my flesh and I burned with the desire to knock whatever sense I could find out of her. I WAS PISSED. She was covered in her own feces and now I had to once again clean up and bathe her which would take some time. Getting over it I proceeded to get it all done and took her out for a quick walk to make sure she had it all out of her system before I left. It's a good thing too because she had some explosive stuff left.

I figured out it must have been that canned food I fed her the night before. I don't know what they put in there but if you wanna clean the pipes.. eat that!

Okay moving forward from about 9:30pm to about 1am. Guys drunk, Check! Sharp objects being thrown, CHECK! (read: darts) I receive a phone call from the woman and think nothing of it until she asks to talk to my friend. So I hand the phone off and throw another dart. My friend hands the phone back... disconnected. I'm like WTF? He said "short conversation I don't know she was going to bed".

Insert additional beers ..... here.

Next morning... nope afternoon ;-) Woke up and had some Dunkin Donuts Breakfast Sandwiches, breakfast of champions, YEA! Decided to get off my lazy ass and make way for home to pick up dog to bring her back to watch more football and eat greasy chili! MMMM... Chili! When I get home I notice the dog is not her usual perky self. I had noticed a bowl of dog food full in the garage but hadn't thought much of it. My fiance works on Saturdays early so she was gone. Especially considering it was about 1:30pm... oops my bad.

I let the dog out of the crate and see that she is limping. First thought, PANIC, second thought, CONFUSION, third thought, delusional clarity. See by the third thought I had figured to go looking for a pile of dog shit or a spot on the carpet, thinking immediately that she had had an accident in the house and my fiance couldn't take it and beat the living shit out her. I guess that is why I called it delusional clarity.

Finally it all made sense... I forgot to tell you that she wreaked.. I couldn't place it at first but then pieces fell together. I ran upstairs and noticed the screen to our bedroom window was bent to hell. It turns out that she jumped at 1am out the second story window and landed on the brick paver patio. Then took off and got sprayed by a skunk and didn't return until about 5:30am.

So that explains why my fiance calls the dog Satan!