5 AM… Shiba-Dark-Hundred

Mine. It’s all mine for the taking.

5 AM: Oh hi, it’s 0-dark-hundred and the dog is whining to go out.

Tierce:  OUT out OUT out OUT

Me:  Fine.

Tierce:  Yay!

Me:  Just pee or poop and get it over with.

Tierce:  Hey, did you know that there’s a hole in the fence?

Me:  No, wa- Tierce?

Tierce:  Hey, they don’t cut their grass at all.

Me:  Tierce!

Tierce:  Doo-de-doo-de-doo.

Me:  (hissing) TIERCE!




Me:  Shit.

Me:  Mischa!

Mischa:  What?  Yeah?  Yeah!  What?

Me:  The dog’s gotten out of the fence and into the neighbour’s yard!

Mischa:  Shit!  Did you call him?

Me:  Of course I called him!

Mischa:  Sorry, sorry.  Just waking up.

***time passes, filled with hissed commands, Mischa jumping into the neighbour’s yard, finding Tierce on the *other* side of the gate that had apparently swung shut after he merrily bolted through it***

Me: I fucking hate that dog.

Mischa: You don’t hate him. You love him!

Me: Not anymore.

Mischa: You’re obsessed with our dog.

Me: I am not!

Mischa: Julie, he has his own Facebook page.

Me: Well, he goes everywhere else without my permission, why not Facebook, too? You see some of the things he writes about me?

Mischa: You post a picture of him nearly every day.

Me: It’s not nearly that often. I haven’t posted a picture of him since… Monday.

Mischa: You post videos of him playing with other dogs.

Me: He’s cute! I mean, ‘was cute’.

Mischa: You love him and you know it.

Me: We hurt the people we love. Believe me, I want to love him passionately right now.

One Comment

  1. It was an overnight conspiracy! My shiba decided that a quarter to 4am was a good time to cry to be let outside.

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