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Death by Tongue

baby Lupe

I love my dog, she’s my baby. Anyone who knows me, knows Lupe is spoiled rotten. Hour long walks, gluten-free dog food, homemade treats. If chicken broth ice cubes count. I love her, a little bit less when the temperature hovers at zero and she doesn’t want to go out. Shit man, neither do I. Five layers, boots, double hats, gloves, kill me now. Burnt nose, numb extremities, (mine), her- frozen paws. She refuses to touch ground, doing the weirdo, mexican jumping bean dance. We go to the pet store, to buy her some booties. Yeah, so not happening. I pick up  paw relief balm, rub it in, she licks it off. Now, she’s really trying what little is left of my frozen arse patience. Short fuse and all. I’m thinking, a cat sounds good right about now. Except, I don’t like them. Ever since my Miami days, when a devil black and white kitty, (that’s what I called him) pissed in my suitcase. Every single chance he got. The putrid smell, is beyond anything I’ve experienced. I’m a dog person, can’t help it. Next life, I’m coming back where it’s warm, sunshine 24/7. 0 degrees, zero tolerance. At least she’s indoors, where it’s toasty. Not all of us were born that lucky. Onto Depends for dogs, and a new area code. Preferably one that doesn’t dip below freezing. Sidebar: We bundle up ready to brave the shit storm. Lupe decides to lick the frozen metal pole, promptly ripping off her tongue. Seriously?! At least her paws don’t hurt, bring on the Friday fun. Good thing I didn’t have kids. I would’ve killed them by tongue.

Tongue remnants

Lupe 2014 Blizzard

 

 

Keep your animals warm, and help your humans stay out of the storm, however you can.

Published in BLOG POETRY & PROSE

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