Monday, October 08, 2007

Why I call her Lucy-Fur

WARNING: This post contains certain information that might offend some people's sensibilities. Part of it even offends my own. Proceed at your own risk.


Kim went out of town six days ago, and it's been my pleasure (most of the time) since then to have Winston and Lucy as houseguests.

Winston has been exceptionally well-behaved, as if he instinctively understands the importance of pleasing the provider of his food, water and treats. With the exception of a few rousing games of plastic-hamburger-keep-away and occasional lifts into and out of the high bed, he hasn't made any extra demands. Lucy, on the other hand, has seemed to have only one thought on her mind since her mom dropped her off:


Lucy is the delicately built girly dog who likes to snuggle. She lets us hold her like a baby and stretches her pretty neck to get close enough to bestow dainty dog kisses on our cheeks. Let's just say that after this visit I won't be so eager to have any more of those.

Here are some of the things I've taken away from Lucy this week:

1) One half-eaten dead wasp;
2) One half-eaten dead beetle;
3) One whole chicken wing stolen from my plate;
4) Two cotton balls;
5) One stuffed animal whose fabric tail she was tearing into pieces, chewing up and swallowing;
6) Two knee-high stockings, worn ones that smelled like feet;
7) One big wad of paper towels I'd put on the floor to blot up a puddle of pee (hers); and, last night at the foot of my bed,
8) One well-chewed-but-not-quite-dead tiny pink gecko.

To complete the portrait, here's a photo of Lucy slinking up to play Inspector General while Kadi goes about personal dog business in the backyard:

The reason I'm telling you all this is to demonstrate that Lucy is not the sweet baby doll we thought she'd grow up to be. Though she's capable of turning on the charm, she's all dog.

So here's the clincher, the for-certain-too-much-information part of this post to explain how Lucy hurt my feelings: She had settled down on the sofa beside me, the entire length of her body snuggled up against my hip and thigh. She was sleeping soundly, and I didn't want to move and wake her, but I began to feel some rumblings in my abdomen.

After a moment I shifted position ever so slightly, and when I did, a tiny amount of gas escaped, accompanied by what I considered an unfortunate but rather feminine little toot. Lucy, the willing eater of vile creatures and close-up admirer of fresh poop, raised her head, sniffed the air, whipped around to look at me with an expression of disbelief, then leaped down and ran across the room and jumped up on the other sofa. How dare she?

Strangers who meet her think she's the prettiest, sweetest little thing. Humph! They've never seen the devil-dog side of her.


  1. Our dog, Watson, started life in our home a lot like Lucy. Among the destroyed and consumed household items:
    * calculator
    * cell phone
    * W2s and all variety of mail (junk and otherwise)
    * glasses
    * stuffed animals (including a very cute and expensive stuffed dog my mother-in-law had proudly given him for Christmas--he destroyed it within five minutes before her very eyes)
    * food items not meant for dogs
    * socks
    * shoes

    He's come a long way since then... his current personality comes a little closer to Winston's... but he still cannot be trusted with anything stuffed.

  2. Forgive me for laughing, Velvet! She's like Damien in "The Omen". She certainly has some interesting tastes! and as for her disdain... tsk, tsk. I bet her breath stinks from all her contraband.

    Winston's so cute with that toy hamburger! I'm using a lot of exclamation marks, aren't I?

  3. LOL Velvet! Makes me miss my Pomeranian.

  4. Velvet, Does she behave this way at Kim's? Is she (Kim) aware of her "dog-ter's" behavior???

    I was just rolling with laughter.

    Lucy sounds like a doll!

    When Mabel farts, she is usually curled up in a ball with her head near the offending orifice. She sniffs the air and looks at me with an accusatory air, and then move further away from me!

  5. Yajeev, welcome. Lucy's only two, so I'm hoping she'll settle down the way your Watson has.

    Janet, Damien is a good comparison to Lucy.

    Kat, it's hard not to get attached to them, no matter how "bad" they are.

    Creekhiker, Lucy remains true to her basic nature wherever she is, so, yes, Kim knows. I got a kick out of your description of Mabel's response to her indiscretions.

  6. This is so dog is a total fart hypocrite. He will fart and not think twice about it (well, he's a dog aint he) but God forbid anyone else in the house fart...he will look at you with such distain and walk away.

  7. Love honor disobey: Thanks for visiting and taking time to comment. Our dogs seem to have a double standard when it comes to farts, don't they?

  8. They kill me blaming stuff on us.
    I think it's funny when Captain does that then jumps up like something got his butt. He whips around in horror that something had the nerve to goose him. HE is the one that does the goosing, not the other way around.

    One day after working around the house and other junk I decided to forget a shower and just go to bed. Well, I climbed in, put my arms above my head and settled in the rest. Along comes my trusty friend Captain Crunch who jumped right up on the bed to rest with me. This is where the offense comes in. Instead of him being being the lover he's known to everyone else for he decided to show me the side of Captain he keeps hidden from others. Captain put his nose in my arm pit, sneeze then get off the bed. I suppose laying in his own funk is better than laying in mine.



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