Citygirl/ Farmhand

Citygirl/ Farmhand
Check out those hay bales

The Farm

The Farm
The Farm

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

I have a Milkbone in my pocket

As I was packing up my clothes for work this morning, I mistakenly started to take inventory of all the damage Zelda von Kingwood has done to my wardrobe. There is a huge hole in my Anlo jeans, a giant rip in my brand new Portolano leather, cashmere lined gloves (that one REALLY pissed me off), and countless holes in the sweatshirts and gym pants that I put on the second I get home just in case she's in one of her nipping and biting moods (which is pretty much always). She almost got my Marc Jacobs bag yesterday but I caught her in the nick of time...she's lucky.
Jim has two giant holes in his puffer jacket which is almost funny because feathers keep flying out of it. I say "almost" because it's his nice winter jacket and the Guy Who Doesn't Care About Clothing even got mad about that one. I would complain about the cut on my lip from when she attacked my face yesterday morning when I was picking up one of her toys, but I look at Jim's bloody hands and I can't feel bad for myself because Holy Shit, his hands are fucked up. I am not exaggerating when I say there is more skin that is bloody than not bloody. I actually get really nauseous every time I look at them and there doesn't seem to be any end in sight. I'm actually getting really nauseous right now while thinking about it and ughh, just vomited in my mouth a little. The thing that scares me the most, (warning: TMI), is that Jim walks around naked at night and I keep having visions of Zelda jumping up and biting his unit off. I know that is a horrible thought, but she bites everything else. Why not attack that fleshy dangling thing? It probably looks like a deliciously tempting piece of meat sandwiched between some very rare, fattier meat. I just wish he would put it away as we've only been married 2 years and are thus far blessed with a healthy sex life. It would also throw a real wrench in our eventual babymaking plans.
After I packed up and was waiting for the bus, I stuck my hands in my pockets (because my aforementioned gloves are being repaired) and I found a Milkbone. I was tempted to throw it out because who wants Milkbone hands, but then I remembered that I would inevitably be walking her in my nice coat some day and would need to reward her for taking a crap. So I stuffed that thing back in there, curled my hand into a tight fist, and put on a happy face. When a little yippy dog started barking and jumping on me, rather than admit I carry loose dog treats in my pocket, I just blew it off with "oh, he must smell my marijuana".

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