Little Filthy…Dutch ovened me.
Have I mentioned that the morning after coming home with Little Filthy, I held him out to her, in my hand, and told Boss that I was going to return him and get my money back? I didn’t plan on having a half pug, half chihuahua… with fleas. It just sort of happened. When Boss saw him trot out, all 2.8 pounds of him, she gasped and I reached for my wallet. I suspect that this may be how many purchases begin and end: with a gasp and wallet grasping. Then we discovered that he likes the taste of his own creations, has a tartar problem, drinks coffee, steals my food and occasionally has gas that rivals a human. But by then, I sort of dug the little guy.
I like it chilly when I sleep so I often crack the patio door before going to bed and wake to find it 60 degrees or cooler. While Little Filthy is normally relegated to his own Little Filthy bed, I often wake mid sleep-cycle to find that he has jumped on the bed and is sleeping on top of me, or even under the covers. Apparently, he was chilly last night because I woke to him rustling under the covers and nudging me to get up and feed him. I groaned, rolled over and pulled the covers over my head. My eyes opened slowly. It smelled like… like butt. Then I realized that Little Filthy had Dutch ovened me. I groaned, “Dog!” and pushed the covers off. He bounded up the bed and landed on my stomach. Oomph. I sighed, stretched, and yawned. Mid-stretch, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open, he pushed his face toward mine and the monster licked my teeth. I admitted defeat and got up to feed him.
Here he is, in his Little Filthy puppy glory, looking like he’d never dream of interrupting your sleep or baking a potato on your mother’s Oriental rug or steal the cheese off your sandwich.
Monster.
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Just a random attorney writing about daily life with Little Filthy, my rotten dog.
April 12th, 2008 at 9:25 pm
Ewe. That is disgusting. I suppose it’s why I don’t have a dog right now, though if I didn’t travel as I do, I like to think I’d love to have one – and that I’d be a nice little dog owner. My son has a Pug (and both are currently living with my son’s dad), and Puggy does all the same things – eats his own stuff (blech), toots worse than my late grandma, steals food, and has the worst breath I’ve ever smelled…
April 13th, 2008 at 1:05 pm
I read this while at work waiting to close up last night, and spit my wine out. It was hilarious. Thanks!
April 13th, 2008 at 2:22 pm
ok that’s nasty. nasty nasty.
but he’s so stinkin cute – how can you stay mad @ that little face?
April 13th, 2008 at 9:06 pm
Ms Cheevious – Yes, very disgusting. It’s that ugly/cute face that gets us.
SnarkyRunner – Hi there, trouble. Glad to entertain.
Lily – This is how dogs get away with murder. And how women do it to, for that matter.
April 14th, 2008 at 9:45 am
I think you purposely put up cute pics of LF to drive Kala wild. She’s ready to give up her Seattle couch and live in sin with LF. She likes the stink so she could care less if he dutch-ovened her daily.
April 14th, 2008 at 7:18 pm
That is the cutest little dog. You can put up with a little butt smell for that face can’t you? ;- )
April 14th, 2008 at 7:26 pm
Bev – He’s a handsome devil, isn’t he? And it’s good to know they both like the stink. Good thing he’s fixed or those puppies would smell horrible.
May 3rd, 2008 at 11:07 am
[...] is being obnoxious lately. Absolutely 100% obnoxious when I’m sleeping. Much like my friend Random claims that Little Filthy is a Monster, I’ve taken to calling Simon a “little monster” when he wakes me up. How do I get [...]