Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...







Monday, September 23, 2013

Going To The Dogs

Because of my age and squirrelitis, I may not have mentioned on here that Otis has the cancer. He is doing well most days. He had a really bad slump awhile ago. Some times,  his old self comes through and other days he rests. He still loves me all the same if not more.

One thing I've noticed is that his hair is shedding much worse. It drives me crazy. I also give him regular baths and brushings to pamper him and keep the hair down. It's still a chore. I would comb the hair on any old friend's back if it would make their cancer feel better.

Last night, while vacuuming, I had a great idea. I remembered the days of The Flowbee. As I was thinking about this great idea, Otis came and sat next to me. Moose...he runs away from the thing because he is a scaredy chicken cat. So...as I was holding the vacuum, it just happened to leap over to Otis and start sucking his hair. I have a powerful vacuum. He loved it.

I continued to vacuum all over and he rolled on his back for me.

Distractions happen. I can multi-task.

As my daughter was yelling at me from upstairs and I averted my attention to her, the vacuum meandered to Otis's man parts. At some part, his wanker got sucked up into the abyss of the tube. It didn't take Otis long to jerk out of a relaxed state into a state of surprise. This got my attention.

ME: What is the matter? Oh, oh shit. I'm sorry. Oh. Nasty. Oh. Geez. Off! Off! Abort! Abort!

Yeah. My dog got a blow job. I'm so proud.

Yes. I cleaned the vacuum cleaner nozzle.

No, I didn't ask him if he enjoyed it. It was a given by his behavior afterward.


This also brought up an old story about the first K-9 dog handler and his wife at Gotham City. We tortured her. As an entire police department. At the time, she also worked at the police department as support staff. So...someone, not me, got the brilliant idea to tell her that since her husband would be getting a K-9, there were certain duties that had to be done by the handler. However, we were informed that he was delegating some of the home care to her. She was told that because the police department got dogs that were not neutered, that in order for them to perform at top notch standards, they had to be "serviced" once a week, otherwise they got screwy and lost their head. In case you aren't getting my jist, she was told to give the dog a hand job. We told her it was just like marriage and it could be on Wednesdays. She totally believed it. After several days of fretting and stewing, she came to grips with her new duty and decided she would do what she had to do for the good of the company. Later, several days, maybe weeks, she was finally told that we were pulling her...uh leg. I and several others, placed specimen jars on her desk thereafter as a constant reminder of her gullible-ness. Great fun was had by all except the disappointed dog. 

3 comments:

GunDiva said...

Hey, even a sick dog has to have a few kicks :)

Jewells said...

LMFAO!! Oh holy crap...this post had me in tears. Thank you so much! I needed this kind of a laugh!! <3

Mad Jack said...

You and your fellow officers are bad people. I almost choked to death on my bourbon.