"Clammy--and none too fresh" was the title of this week's Two and a Half Men and I thought it would be a great title for a journal entry. But that would mean I would have to figure out something appropriate to write about.
I could have used it for yesterday's entry about a funeral, but that would have been in poor taste.
It seemed ready made for a clever entry about cleaning out the fridge, but that would mean that I'd have to -- you know -- actually clean out the fridge....and was I that dedicated to creating an appropriate journal entry that I would actually stoop to that level?
No. I love you, but there are limits.
I could have worked up a sweat on the treadmill and written about that, but...see previous paragraph.
So here is this wonderful title in search of an entry. Instead of writing about something clammy and none too fresh, I decided to tackle the subject of death, dismemberment, and disembowelment. 'Cause that involves much less work on my part.
I hate to admit it, but this house is littered with dead bodies.
I remember what fun it was in Australia. Chippa had a whole basket full of stuffed animals and would carry them around lovingly, grinding her teeth in the fabric, but never tearing them up. Then there is that cute Petco commercial with the daschund carrying his beloved chew toy into the store and trading it for a new one.
When we first got Sheila we bought stuffed toys for her and she loved playing with them, mouthing them, chasing them. But then came the day when, accidentally, she realized that there were actually plastic squeakers inside. From then on her life was devoted to one thing only: the disemboweling and de-squeaking of every stuffed animal she encountered. Once she had the plastic squeaker out of the body, and the stuffing strewn everywhere (like the Scarecrow after an attack by the flying monkeys in Wizard of Oz), she could care less about the toy, and just chewed the squaker to her heart's content.
I stopped wasting money on stuffed animals and started letting her have empty water bottles, which she loves to crunch flat. Neither she nor Lizzie eats them, but they just love the noise. And, with as much water as I drink, this is an inexhaustible supply!
But there are lots of pre-chewed stuffed animals around, and the puppies have found all of them. To say nothing of this poor parrot who seems to have had a beakectomy.
I tread gingerly as I walk around the house through the body parts and guts of toys I haven't seen in a long time. But they're having a great time and it's much better than finding pieces of electrical cords and/or plugs (which I've also found!)And yes, when you step on a chewed rubber toy in your bare feet in the dark, it does feel clammy and none too fresh! (See? I knew I could bring it full circle!)