my Rabid Beast

It’s Rabid Beast time.

He just graduated from puppy obedience class – so proud!  The Man even came to the last class to celebrate, which I appreciated because I have to put up with some nut cases in that class, not to mention the dogs.  They were all dainty little yappy, jumpy, annoying furballs.  Jimi was the stud of the class, a gorgeous French bulldog sharing class with a Miniature Pincher – who pissed on my coat, I was five seconds away from pissing on him, a Maltese/Poodle mix and a Pomeranian.  He was the star pupil too, thanks in part to his treat fixation – he’s hyper focused if he knows a treat is on the line, and me paying attention.  The other owners sat and talked all class, except the MinPin’s owner, who didn’t speak English. 

The past two days, the Rabid Beast has prevented me from getting my early morn cardio in.  I’ll get up, put on my shorts and tank and am just about to slip on my shoes and slip out the door when the Man comes out holding the Rabid Beast, saying he’s not going back to sleep.  Insult to injury, not 5 minutes after the dog delivered to me, he’s sitting in front of the bedroom door wanting to go in and sleep.  Damn dog doesn’t know what he wants. 

He’s still an attacker.  I can’t lie on the floor, or look under the oven for an escaped Easter egg without the Rabid Beast becoming embroiled in a battle with my hair.  But, I’ve learned my lessons.  I don’t even attempt to do any form of yoga or exercise while the dog is conscious and/or in my presence.  Which makes me all the more pissed when he decides at 5:45a that he needs to be with me.  Not sleeping, he needs to be awake, following me around because HEAVEN FORBID I do anything without him overseeing  or participating.  What the hell am I supposed to do at 5:45a when my morning cardio is obviously not going to be done, and I’m wide awake?  Make some coffee and get in the shower.  Except that quickly becomes boring.  The Rabid Beast looks at me and says: “what…this again?  You just did this yesterday morning.  I thought you were gonna do something interesting, like burn some calories or get in shape or do some centering activities, like yoga.  Eh, well.  I might as well go back to sleep.”  I DID do this same routine yesterday because YOU wouldn’t sleep, you damn hindrance to my fitness.  I can’t put him back in bed, that’ll just piss of the sleeping Man.  So I putter.  Do laundry, clean the kitchen.  At SIX IN THE MORNING.  Thank you Rabid Beast.

He’s vindictive too.  He has these nasty ‘bully sticks’ he chews on and they stink to high hell.  The most revolting stench ever.  And he’ll gnaw on one till it’s all chewed and slimy and the whole place stinks, and HE stinks, then he mosies over to my water bottle and LICKS the mouth piece.  MY water bottle now smells like rotting dead fish and puppy-who-eats-his-own-poo slobber.  I had to throw the bottle away I was so disgusted.  And yesterday he eviscerated a different water bottle.  Of mine.  When he HAS to be awake and I CAN’T work out, I sit on the floor to watch news and attempt some bonding time with him.  But he chews on my feet.  Or climbs on my chest and gets his little face as close to mine as possible, or climbs on the couch behind my head and barks at my hair or just assaults my hands. 

He has to be sitting on my lap or on top of my makeup table while i get ready in the morning.  Or else he barks.  And I ignore him.  Then the Man wakes up, barrels out of the bedroom like the Rabid Beast is pulling a Lassie, and instead of timmy being stuck in a well, I may be passed out or dead.  But I'm not, and we both look at the Man like "Crisis?"  And he slinks back into the room. 

He sniffs everything before I use it, even trying to eat my makeup brushes and sticking his paws in my cream blush, which now has nice Rabid Beast nail scrapes through it.  He steals my makeup too.  Occassionally he just decides, "Um, this HighBeam from Benefit, well, it's mine now."  Into his mouth it goes, onto the floor he goes and I make a mental note to buy more cheek and brow highlighter next time I'm out.

The Rabid Beast is my best friend.  I love his vindictive and attacking ways.  He’s got personality.  Be that one of a deranged assailant.  He’s endearing.  I’d take him everywhere with me if I could.  Thrift store shopping, work, karaoke, billiard hall.  But, he’s too crazy for society and too cute for people to leave him alone.  Look at him, he’s a model.  That’s his model pose.  I love my dog.