Beating a Dead Horse

Yes, this is another post about Milo.



Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but I’ve really got to get this little dude under control.

This morning, Brian’s alarm went off at the crack of dawn like it always does (when he’s working, of course, which isn’t often. Firefighters have it made in the shade. Except, yanno, when there’s a fire).

I don’t really know what time it goes off, but it’s definitely before 6:00am, which in my mind classifies it as the middle of the night. So while I fully applaud his ability to get up in the middle of the night to go to work, I, the loving and supportive girlfriend that I am, usually flip over and go right back to sleep for another hour or two.

Milo, however, is a morning person (dog?). Once Brian’s alarm goes off, he’s all panting and bug-eyed and ready to run like a maniac for the next two hours. Some days he realizes that it’s just not going to happen. On those days, he makes his way over to Brian’s warm spot on the bed, tucks in, and saws some lumber with me.
I love those days.
But on other days, he’s just not having it. On those days, he flips and flops and stretches and kicks me in the back and the stomach and the face until I either A) chase him out of the room screaming and slam the door or B) ignore him until he realizes that he has to entertain himself because what am I a god-damn clown sent here for his personal amusement?!?

This morning was a Milo’s not having it kind of morning. At first, he psyched me out by tucking in next to me once Brian was up. But a few minutes later, he started wiggling. And then he was kicking me in the back.

*kick kick

“miloooo”

*kick kick

“miloooo stoooop”

*kick KICK

“Stop, Milo”

*KICK KICK

“aaarrggghh KNOCKITTHEFUCKOFF!!”

So I shove him down to the foot of the bed, point my finger at him for emphasis (which he tried to bite, and I was all “Oh I KNOW you didn’t just try to do that!!”), and lay back down.

Two minutes later…

*flip flop

“Milo Stop”

*flip flop squirm

“Milo, seriously, KNOCK IT OFF”

*flip flop squirm wiggle KICK

“MILOGOTOBEDORISWEARTOGOD…”

*BARK

“Excuse me, WHAT?!?! Did you just BARK AT ME?!? Oh, you’re gonna get it!!!!”

So I chase him out of the room and down the hallway and end up in the kitchen in my underwear, hair awry, nostrils flared, ready to commit puppicide.

Brian who iss already in the kitchen having some coffee, is greatly amused.

“Oh, you’re up,” he says cheerfully. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Have I mentioned that he’s a smart-ass?

So, I’m an hour less rested today, which is not making for a splendiferous morning. However, I did use that extra hour to go on a run (with Milo in tow, of course), which is probably just reinforcing his crack-head behavior, but at least maybe this way he’ll be 2% less rammy tonight, and beggars can’t be choosers. And in the meantime I can feel good about myself for getting back into shape after my most recent medical malady.

So. Lots of good things to look forward to this weekend, once I get through this agonizingly slow day here at work.
What is it about Fridays that make every second stretch into eternity?

I hope everyone has a great weekend, although I can pretty much guarentee that your weekend won't be as awesome as mine, what with the soccer game and all.
Nothing personal, of course, but you know how it is...
So make sure you sieze this weekend and throttle all the fun out of it because lets face it, you're not getting any younger and every weekend past is a weekend closer to your ultimate demise.

Happy Friday!