Dog.

Dog.

Charlie the Hun.

My oldest sister Em inspired me to tell you about my relationship with my dog. The dogs name is Charlie. We named it Ben initially but he wouldn’t respond to Ben… nor does he respond to Charlie… hes not that smart. Not that this reincarnation of Attila the Hun has no brains at all, its just that his IQ is between a rabid squirrel and left over pizza. Still like mothers say of problem children, he is our little blessing.

Last week both Parental Units left for the great state of Michagin for a wedding, leaving me with Charlie the Hun and my two sisters. Code named “Caitlin” and classified item “Sarah” unfortunately had their work and education obligations to attend to leaving me from 7:30AM until 3:30PM with Charlie.

A definition of Laziness: 1. slow-moving; sluggish 2. Charlie the Hun

Classified Item “Sarah” left for school leaving the Hun with me. As I am a normal post college grad I had a good two hours of sleep ahead of me, so Charlie hopped in my bed. Mistake.

The wretch had to shift positions every five minutes for the first hour until he could figure out a way to take up the entire queen size bed. After leaving me 1/3 of my bed to sleep on, he begins to do a cute snore followed by… farting. At this point I am wide a awake looking at Charlie who is spread eagle on his back dreaming away. After a half hour I finally go to sleep and then Charlie the Hun has an invigorating dream about ransacking a village of kittens. This sparks involuntary muscle spasms and he starts kicking me. I wake up again.

Now annoyed I wake up Charlie by shaking his little front paws.  He then does his stretches and jumps gleefully off the bed. He proceeds to live out the rest of the day laying around, shitting on our lawn and have me pay constant attention to him until Item “Sarah” comes home and absorbs the Charlie duties. I love that dog….  I will never own a dog.

IAHFHAGOSIOHSGAOIIH

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