What You Hear Around the House

Daughter often says we engage in conversation at our house that surely no other house engages in.

I don't know if she's correct, but I do know we are, well, strange.

For instance: this morning I was trying to finish getting our income tax cra stuff ready to go, and Husband was puttering around in the garage, so he brought Molly (our American Bulldog) to me. Letting her off the leash, he closed the door.

Instead of flopping down to sleep as she usually does, she started rooting around. Now, if I had not been so frustrated and occupied, I probably would have investigated her behavior, but instead, all this was in the back of my mind.

Even when I heard her grunt and shake her head, then start licking, I didn't come up for air.

Until it happened again.

I then realized she was tripping  mouse traps and getting nipped in the nose. It hurt, I guess, but not enough to keep her from eating the cheese/peanut butter combo and going to the next one to do it all over again.

I hollered at her then, "Molly, what are  you doin?"
Husband: "What is she doin?"
Me: She's trippin the mouse traps and gettin' bit on the nose! But stupid Molly doesn't care! She's lickin the stuff offa 'em!"
Neighbors: "Should we call the police?"

I guess the neighbors might not know Molly is a dog.

I put the leash around her thick old neck and hauled her as  rear end outside. I unhooked the leash, looped it around the side  mirror on the truck, clipped it back to her collar and marched back to do the tax cra garbage.

She was looking at me like I felt.

Frankly, I'd rather be tied to the truck mirror than do tax cra stuff.

They say owners and their pets begin to look alike.

I reckon today is as good as any to start looking like Molly.