Holy Douche!

I don’t even know where to begin with this douching. I guess it all began when my friend asked me to watch her dog that she recently acquired, a min pin, and being the dog lover that I am, I said sure. She said it would be in a couple weeks, and texted that she would call me later with the details.

Well the call never came and the next day I went out of town. Then the next day after that I started getting calls from her husband wondering when he could drop the dog by since they were leaving tomorrow!

What the hell?

We’ll just write it off as mommy brain – even though that is the lamest excuse in the book. Mommy brain is short for, “I’m taking those supplements that taste like chocolate and are completely synthetic so they don’t do a damn thing.” Joy.

So whatever, I forgive her, and move on. We arrange for the dog to stay elsewhere until my husband and I can return from our vaca and pick the dog up. Well at first the dog seems fine, you know skittish and weird like all small dogs are, but then I noticed it also hadn’t been neutered.

I didn’t worry too much about it until IT met my other normal sized (by that I mean BIG) dog and devoted itself to humping his ankle mercilessly. Oh and I refer to the dog as “IT” because I don’t know what the hell his name is.

Well, my dog doesn’t like being humped for fifteen minutes by a rat every five seconds so we tried to get IT to leave my dog alone by offering it a stuffed animal – which it doesn’t take until I rub the scent of my male dog all over the stuffed animal. So not only is IT a horny bastard he’s also gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just saying. Maybe if it was my girl dog she’d be okay with the humping, but my boy dog? not so into it. In fact he now growls whenever IT is in a five-minute radius of him.

Well, as I said before, the stuffed animal seemed to work like a charm for IT. I wondered if IT just needed a good humping before he could settle into his new environment. Well after fifteen minutes of humping…it really hadn’t stopped...it started to get a little scary. The dog’s erected self was frighteningly huge! HUGE! Especially in comparison to his wee little body.

By this time I didn’t even want to go near him for fear IT might attack me with the red rocket…shooting for the moon this one was. Not to mention that this dog was going at it like he was trying to win an award for best porn star. So much so that IT’s shlong began bleeding profusely on my nephew’s stuffed animal. (Yes, I gave the rat dog my nephew’s stuffed animal -- don’t judge me).

So with a bleeding shlong on my hands I am now forced to stop him and examine his gargantuan thingy to make sure it’s okay! I mean this is the stuff the nightmares are made of! And when I say bleed, I don’t mean a few drops of blood, I’ve had flesh wounds produce less blood than this dog’s shlong. And since this is only hour three of the horrid event, I’m sure their will be much more irate blogging, as I try to process what the hell I got myself into.

The only problem is I don’t even know whom to douche at this point? The dog for being sex crazed porn star or my friend with the mommy brain. But really in the end, I guess I only have myself to blame. So, I can admit it. I’m a douche.