A Little bit Retarded

I figured I would clue you in on the habits of my other fur face, however, it may be cut short as I am currently monitoring a potential brawl between the two (Asshole has one of Retard's toys and Retard is hovering over Asshole whining....so far so good)


Okay, so I split them up and fed them, and then my ADD/OCD kicked into high gear and now this post has taken me exactly hours to make, when it should have taken roughly 15 minutes.  After I threw Asshole into the kitchen, Cat was on the counter.  Pet, pet, pet,.....How are you kitty? Oh, your ears look dirty; let me inspect your mouth too....Open up!!  Ahh yes, needle teeth hurt. Okay, stay right here. I attempt to clean our Cat's ears with this drying ear cleanse stuff on a cotton ball.  He literally jumps off the counter.  I chase him down, flatten him, and continue my cleaning business.  Done. He's pissed and runs off.  Now that I've done his I might as well clean the dogs ears.  I soak another cotton ball and fly into the living room, grab Retard's flop ears and get busy.  He cowers to the wrath of the cotton balls.  Done.  Moving on.....Crash seems less angry this morning, so we go in for the kill.   He typically does great with cleanings and shots and baths so this was a breeze.  Well, now that I've done their ears; I need to clean out Retard's tail and brush his teeth.  Um yes, okay, so tard's tail is super cork-screwey and we found out the hard way that it is high maintenance.  I LITERALLY have to shove my fist in his butthole area and clean out around and in his tail. It smells if I don't and he becomes PSYCHO if I don't clean it out regularly.  But look at how gross this fucking shower is!  Grab softscrub and a cleaning pad; hop into shower and scrub the shit out of it.  And I might as well scrub out the bathroom sink as well now that I have the supplies here.  Ok, let's not get the bleach mixed in with Retard's "Liver Flavored" toothpaste.. Gross, that shit is gross.  It looks like diarrhea but he loves it, so be it. While I was scrubbing away; Retard managed to fly out of the shower and rip around the bathroom with a wet ass enough to completely soak most of the walls, the window covering, the entire floor, and the floor mats.  I just ignore all of this because I literally cleaned all of this up yesterday and I am just going to pretend he didn't just fuck everything up again. And then I end up looking like this:

Now I'm back at my computer and, if you have dogs, you know that after any of their body gets into water, they become rabid monkeys with wide eyes and the ability to leap from couch to couch in a single bound.  Retard has grabbed his octopus toy and is literally running full speed into the guest room, jumping on the expensive white leather sofa I managed to snag at a great deal years ago. It's one of those fancy sofas that no one actually sits on because; as an ex- Interior Designer, it's gorgeous, but in reality; it is SUPER uncomfortable.  This is one of the few pieces of furniture he hasn't ruined yet, but more on that fun later. "Get the FUCK off of the couch"...Nothing.  He pretends not to hear me.  I come STOMPING into the room, he looks guilty as hell and leaps off, only to book it into the living room and leap onto our other couch.  I'm trying to do important things like this post, so in the kitchen he goes. And now he is currently screeching at the top of his lungs because I have CLEARLY ABUSED him and stabbed him with hot pokers.  Oye.

So the real reason I'm writing this post.
This is Retard.

Again, not his real name, but I can't imagine a word more fitting.  He acts exactly like a toddler (you know that screeching fit that has been going on?  Well, he just tuckered himself out and is now sleeping.  Like a child).  He just turned a year old at the end of June and is already 70 lbs.  And that pic makes him look like an angel; which he is, when he is being a standard lazy English Bulldog.  And look at those chompers.....they just kill me.  Because of the way his mouth is; every morning when I let him out of his crate, the first thing I do is push his dried tongue back into him mouth because his under-bite makes it impossible for his drool or tongue to stay IN his mouth. 

He is learning his boundaries around the house.  Mainly because I have to shove him away from the wrong things every few minutes.  He doesn't understand his size at all.  I have watched him shove furniture, with people's weight on them, out of the way WITH. HIS. HEAD.  Like it's nothing. 

And while Asshole's puppy destroying obsession was wood; wood trim, wood cabinetry, wood bases, wood steps.....Retard's is soft, fabric like materials.  Please take a look at Exhibits A, B, and C:

 (PS- The screeching has started again, and if he doesn't figure out that his FAVORITE toy is RIGHT. NEXT. TO HIM. I am going to start self medicating with vodka in a hot minute.)

The good thing about Retard's path of destruction is that it has allowed me to stop giving a shit about material possessions to an extent.  We had planned to get a new living room couch and get rid of those chair cubes anyways; so I guess this is just the kick start we needed.  My only small issue was the white chair.  He ripped that hole the DAY AFTER I bought them.  Luckily I was drinking when I got the call from Bayou saying what he had done, so I didn't throw a shit-fit and punt Retard into next year. 

Ok, I gotta cut this post short. I need a vodka IV. Stat.  And class it up outside by sitting in a kiddie pool that Retard has decided to use as an extra large water dish and lovingly left a film of drool in.  Again, gross, and THIS is why kiddie poop and snots, and all this other gross crap that will inevitably fly out of my babies isn't that gross when you compare it to the nasty shit I have to clean up on a daily basis.  This morning alone, I cleaned up cold vomit that was leftover from some point in the night, a smelly tail/butthole, two water dishes filled with dog drool, and three scuzzy sets of ears.  Motherhood should be a breeze, right?

TBag. Out.