Dog, The Photobombing Master

Brown Triangles

Dog has made it clear to me that she does not like the brown triangles in her food.

She eats all the little "meaty" chunks around them.

She licks all the gravy off of them.

Leaving behind only... The brown triangles.

Dog:  "I thought I made it clear that I do not like the brown triangles."

Me:  "Yeah, Dog, I know."

Dog:  "The brown triangles are rubbish. 

How many times must I remind you that I do not like the brown triangles?"

Me:  "For a dog that eats poop, you are quite picky."

 Dog:  "Poop is delicious. Brown triangles are not."

More Stuff on Dog

Dog is ridiculously uncoordinated.

She goes into what looks like a spastic epileptic fit in attempt to catch food I throw at her.

Yet, she has a remarkable ability to balance things on her head.

Dog:  "I hate you..."

Dog:  "Why do you do this to me, assholes..."

 

Dog:  "Seriously? A drink called 'Sac Sac'? 

Are you trying to Special Olympics-slow-pitch-shit 

material for me to make fun of you?"

More Stuff on Dog

Dog:  "I hate this game, bitches."

 Dog:  "It is demeaning to my kind."

Dog:  "Why do you torment me with my own treats?"

Me:  "You're right, Dog, I shouldn't do it with your treats. 

How about with produce?"

Dog:  "I hate you so much."

Touché, Dog...

Dog:  "I now take an alternative approach to your milkbone barrage, bitches."

Dog:  "Milkbones in YOUR FACE, bitches. EVERYWHERE you look. 

Milkbones, motherfuckers."

Dog:  "Milkbones where you least suspect there will be milkbones.
Milkbones like, Rawr, motherfuckers! MILKBONES."

Milkbone Challenge 2012

Dog hates milkbones.

So naturally, I generously offer them to her as treats because it's funny to see her attempts at squirreling them away in "hiding spots" to get rid of them.

"Ground Zero"

A bit too obvious, Dog. Try harder.

Hoping they blend in with the cardboard?

Dog:  "Milkbones and cardboard taste exactly the same. I hate you, so much."

 In the kitchen...

The best effort seen thus far...

 By the bath tub...

 Really, Dog? Right there?

 Running out of hiding spots...

Caught in the act...

Just plain lazy and obvious, Dog.

Ah, your doggy bed that you recently pissed on. 

GREAT place, Dog.

The space between ottoman and sofa... 

The figurative "black hole" of all of her toys...

Not a milkbone, but a rawhide...

Dog:  "What, bitches? I'm tired of your milkbone crap. Give me some bacon."

This one has thus been recently relocated to the center of the rug...

Obviously, some spots are better than others. 

But I think Dog has given up. 

Dog has brought several out from "hiding" and is laying in silent protest, surrounding herself with the worthless milkbones.

Dog:  "I hate you bitches... So... Fucking... Much..."

Dog Has No Fucks to Give

Dog:  I do not... Give... A... Fuck...

...Bitches.

Dog is a Creepster

If I fail to close both doors to the bathroom, this is what I get:

(View from toilet)

Dog:  "Hey. 'Sup? I see you have forgotten 

to close the second door to the bathroom."

Me:  "Go away, Dog."

Dog:  "Whatcha doin' there? Taking a piss? Sweet."

Me:  "Go AWAY, Dog."

Me:  "Stop being a creepster. GO AWAY."

Dog:  "I love front row seats to the toilet show."

Me:  "I hate you, so much, Dog. So much."

Residing in an area of downtown, notoriously known for the masses of popped-collar adorned douche nozzles that frequent the area on weekends in pursuit of drunken debauchery, I have created a "collar for Dog's collar" in celebration of said popped-collar adorned douche nozzles.

How YOU doin'?

All Dog needs now is to perfect the "duck face" and the sideways, backwards peace sign with her tiny little paw.

Fetch, Dog

Me:  "Hey Dog."
Dog:  "What's up, asshole?"

Me:  "Bring me your ball and let's play fetch."
Dog:  "Fuck off, I'm tired."

 Me:  "Tired? From your grueling schedule of eating, pooping, sleeping, and licking your own doggy vagina? You're a fucking dog. Play some fetch."
Dog:  "Yeah.... No. No fetch today. I'm subbing in rug pooping for fetch today."

Me:  "Don't poo on the rug."
Dog:  "What? My day won't be complete unless I do."

Me:  "I hate you so much sometimes, Dog."

Dog:  "Likewise, bitches."

More Shenanigans with TSA-Approved Pet Travel Luggage

The inner liner cover of Dog's TSA-approved pet travel luggage ended up in one of the boxes marked 'bedroom'. Whilst unpacking said box, I found it, dropped it on the ground and continued to sort and organize.

I then heard a 'whap-whap-whap' noise coming from behind me...

Yes, that is my genius dog, who managed to shove her head into the liner cover and continued to walk about with it on her head.

Sigh...

TSA-Approved Pet Travel Luggage

Dog is fucking hilarious. 

This is what I returned home to after being away for a good portion of the afternoon:

No, I didn't leave the top unsecured.

Yes, that is Dog managing to get her head stuck trying to escape her TSA-approved pet travel luggage.

No, Dog wasn't panicking whatsoever.

Yes, Dog had succeeded once before escaping her TSA-approved pet travel luggage in the same fashion.

Dog:  "Nothing to see here, folks, move along..."

Me:  "You're fucking hilarious, Dog."

Dog:  "You're such a dick. I hate you so much."

Me:  "Would you like a hand there?"

Dog:  "No, no, I'm cool. It's like a sunroof. I'm awesome."