Well, I got hooked this week. Drug of choice: 1st season of Big Love on DVD. Never knew polygamy could be so entertaining! And damn if Bruce Dern doesn’t get weirder looking every time I see him – kind of reminds me of Nick Nolte’s mug shot – crazy/strange.
My parents are leaving today to spend 3 weeks in France and I must say I feel a bit apprehensive about the 70 year olds going off on their own like that to Europe. Not that they’ll be completely on their own, but you never know what can happen. Anyway, they’ve left their neurotic dog with me, which they do when they travel. Her name is Daisy, but I call her Crazy Daisy because she’s just that strange. If an animal can be autistic, she’s the poster dog for it. Taking care of Daisy is easy because she stays in her kennel a lot, usually only coming out to eat and pee.
Daisy is perpetually on a diet and mom has special food for her, which she doesn’t eat at my house. Coco eats the regular store shelf stuff – Kibbles ‘n Bits – so when Daisy’s at my house she ignores her low fat foot and goes straight to Coco’s bowl to chow down. This pisses Coco off, so I end up feeding them both the high octane food. Daisy, however, loves her other diet food – green beans. Mom brought several cans of green beans this time and this morning I tried to feed Coco some. Green bean in mouth, green bean promptly spit out of mouth. Coco looked up at me with a “what the fuck was that??” look on his face. I laughed and said “You know, Crazy thinks this stuff is good.” Coco walked off and I could swear he was shaking his head as if to say “Crazy. You can say that again.”
Poor Coco, he gets soooo excited when Daisy comes over. There is much greeting and smelling of backsides and general romping until Daisy hightails it to her kennel and Coco is left alone to wonder if Daisy will ever be just a normal dog he can actually play with. There are moments though, especially first thing in the morning when the dogs go outside for morning constitutionals, and then again when they come back into the house, when there is much running and general dogginess. Coco thinks it’s great fun to chase Daisy outside, and then back in again – running at his top speed, ears back, black fur flying in the wind, chasing old fat Daisy back into her kennel as fast as he can. It’s near impossible to take Daisy for a walk. Everything scares her – wind, noise, other dogs, children. She prefers to stay in her “safe zone” and I’m happy to accomodate I guess. Poor thing, though, what a scary life she must lead.
As you can see, taking care of my mom’s dog is pretty much a piece of cake.
Anyway, here’s hoping for a good trip for the parents – who can’t speak a word of French although they practiced and practiced with their CD set they bought. Dad swears the French speak in a secret language that no regular human can understand. I’m sure they’ll be quite entertaining for the actual French-speaking people, or maybe they’ll come back and actually be able to ask where the bathroom is in French, albeit with a Midwestern tang.
Here’s to berets and Monet!