I am very fond of throwing open the blinds as far and wide as they will go when the sun comes out to play at this time of year.  I am not a fan of being cold and gray.  I need light and warmth and vibrance or I forget how to breathe.

The dog is very, very fond of sleeping in puddles of sun on the carpet. (I have to admit that I am, too.)

What he did not realize, however, is that if one chooses to sleep among the train tracks of the little boy, one gives up all rights not to be built upon.

I was the foreman, looking on and supervising. I must confess that I felt this was a questionable choice of foundation.

But the builder, the artist, had a vision, and he followed through.

The foundation was kind of not interested in allowing the vision to be realized.

In fact, the foundation was all, “I am utterly displeased with the choice of building materials and deeply disturbed that nobody found it necessary to request my permission to build on these grounds. Oh and I’m definitely thinking of peeing on something you like as a form of revenge.”

But the little boy builder was not going to give up so easily, and quickly went for a second try at his plan once the foundation had resettled.

But the foundation was all, “Uh. No.”

He had other things in mind.

The little boy was unsure of how to proceed.

But then the builder decided he was really always meant to be a masseuse, and a compromise was reached.

And everyone was happy.

Which, when laying in puddles of sunny carpet among train tracks, is really not all that surprising.

Like Braden, he survives in our household because he is very, very cute.

But his cuteness could not surpass the high level of vomiticousness that was his constant need to piss on everything we own.  Over and over again we tried to be patient and train him, to no avail.  When we moved again, we decided to try living Pee Free.

And the dog went outside.

Collective “Awwwww, poor little thing!”

Yeah, your life wasn’t Urine-Rageous.

And yet, as the cold weather came upon us recently, my cold, black coal of a heart softened and grew, much like The Grinch’s.

And The Mexican didn’t even have to sing an obnoxious song.

Oh wait!  YES HE DID.  He started howling and yipping outside constantly.

Another collective, “Awwwww!”

So the Furniture Pissing…

Poop Eating…

Paci-Chewing…

Jerk-Faced Dog has somehow made it back into our home full time.

So far, he’s doing well.  We’ll see how it goes.

Of course, Braden LOVES him and is delighted to have him inside.

And that’s what REALLY keeps him alive.

Otherwise, I’d have nuked him long ago.

I swear, everyone around here’s lazy but me…

The Dog

The Boy

The Man

What? Stop looking at me like that. I’m NEVER lazy.

(Just sarcastic.)