I haven't slept well all week. I tend to be a bit temperamental even when I do get a good night’s sleep, so you can just imagine what I’m like when I’m sleep deprived. I'm fucking cuckoo. This is why I haven't been sleeping.
His name is Brody and he's been a bit out of sorts lately, because his schedule has been disrupted by some changes in our family's schedule. Shit happens and since he's still new here, it's quite an adjustment for him. He's a rescue wiener from Midwest Dachshund Rescue.
It’s been almost a year and a half since I drove up to Wisconsin to fetch Brody. It has also been almost a year and a half now that I’ve been getting up in the wee hours of the morning so that this wiener can drain his weenie, because sometimes he just has to! He darts outside, pees like a racehorse, darts back in and snuggles right up for more snoozy time.
The vet says he’s fine - No infection and no structural problem. Brody is a needy and nervous and expresses his inner conflict urine-ically. I made that word up, but you know what I mean. He marks, sprays, squats, etc. I have to keep a close eye on him. I've heard it's the breed, but I also think it's just him, so it's important for him to be on a regular schedule and to receive a lot of positive reinforcement, training, exercise and patience.
We are the perfect family for Brody, because we have a lot of time and attention to give him and we understand his special needs. Oh, and when I say we, I mostly mean ME. I listen to him and validate the fact that he communicates his needs via pee and lately he's peeing his feelings. Every single night last week, he had to pee his feelings. Ugh.
Two nights ago, he woke me. Then he woke our other rescue pup, Holly. He doesn't like to do anything without her. I was dying, because it was the third night in a row that he needed to wee, but like I said, when Brody needs to go, he NEEDS to go. I let the dogs outside.
It was pitch black, so I couldn't see them, but all of a sudden I heard the panicked barking and howling of my whacked out wieners, along with a raw, blood curdling screeching sound coming from I didn’t know what!
I knew I had to find out, because what if it was a couple of lost toddlers fighting over an iPad? I may be past the stage of life where I'm getting up with kids in the middle of the night, but I couldn't just let them fight it out in the dark. That's just too dangerous.
Just kidding. I knew it was probably an animal, most likely an opossum or a raccoon, but if you've ever heard a couple of kids fighting over an electronic device, you know it sounds a lot like rabid animals raging on each other.
I slipped on my Crocs – yeah, I wear Crocs, fuck you – and ran to the back door. I grabbed a flashlight and the first two things I saw on the counter, hoping I could break up the fight and scare the creature away. I screamed to my husband, who was upstairs sleeping, letting him know I needed his help and then tore out the back door, because I'm a brave warrior. Ain't no rabid critter gonna tear the cute faces off my wieners. I would rescue them again!
ACK! It was an angry opossum!
This SOB was playing a different game of 'possum, not the cute fake sleeping game. Oh no, this bitch's game was called,
"I will rip your wieners into ribbons and then I will make waste of your stupid human face!"
I went after the vicious beast! I started swatting at him with the flyswatter. I chucked my Crocs at him. He charged at me! I knew that the Uno cards were useless, but in my defense, they were all I had left, even if I had NO idea why I had them in my hand.
I still can't figure out why I was holding a pack of Uno cards.
Anyhoo...I chucked the pack of Uno cards at the screaming, hissing assholepossum – BOOM!
'Cause this is how I play 'possum, ASSHOLE!
I was terrified, but I also felt powerful. Swat, swat, swat! I used what I had and fought the good fight. I wasn't giving up! Sure, I was barefoot, swatting at the opossum as he chased after me, the dogs chasing after him, probably screaming louder than all the animals put together, but I was out there! Yeah, I felt like a bad ass.
I circled around and scooped up the barking wieners. I tried to continue swatting at the screaming animal, but it was hard with two wriggling, yapping dogs trying to break free. Holly escaped my grasp and chased the hissing beast up a tree. Jerk opossum made it up to the fence and then just sat there hissing and screaming like an asshole. My husband came rushing out and grabbed Holly. Brody was in my arms, squirming, howling and growling. We hauled ass into the house.
Me: Did you see the size of that thing?
Eric: I don't have my contacts in. I'm still half asleep. I don't even know what just happened. What the hell just happened?
Me: It was an opossum. He was ginormous! Like a mutant! He tried to kill me, but I fought him off.
Eric: With a flyswatter?
Me: And Uno cards and my Crocs.
Eric: What were you thinking?
Me: I wasn't. But if I was Gambit, I would have killed that fucker with the cards. Pew, pew, pew - slice! Off with his ugly opossum head!
Eric: Ok, Gambit. I'm going to bed.
Me: Ok, Rip-Van-Winkle, I'm going outside to get my shoes and Uno cards.
Eric: Don't forget to take your trusty flyswatter.
Why am I telling you this tale of courage, devotion and bravery? What's the point?
I don't know. There's no point to this. But... I think we can all agree that opossums are assholes and Professor Xavier and the rest of the X-Men totally need to stop underutilizing Gambit's bitchen card throwing skills.
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