...the kids...

As if I weren't sleepy or something, the two chihuahuas woke me at the buttcrack of dawn. By that, I mean 10am. Ahh...who really needs sleep anyways?


ginavee...


So I throw the covers off to reveal a tiny little devil staring at me like I should have already done this hours ago.


"Well guess what Mr. Zeek. I have to make a living unlike you, my child. How do you think you have food to eat and a roof over your head? It wasn't very long ago that the bff was thinking of taking you to the pound."


Really? Do I really talk to them like they are real children. Why yes. Yes I do.


So up and adam I get, with the Devil and the Angel right at my heels, jumping around like it's Christmas morning. So out the green door we go to frolic in the front yard, only to find a nice little note on my mailbox.

"Heather, the rabies tag you showed me belonged to Rambo. I need the one for Zig. Love Yulia."

{p.s. it is Zeek}


The story is as follows. I have a Devil dog named Zeek. He likes to bite.

Yulia is my crazy Russian neighbor.

Zeek bit her, BUT didn't even break the skin.
She swears she has rabies.
I gave her the wrong tag and can't find Zeeks...

Tip of the day:
Don't break the Leash Laws in Tuscaloosa.
Avoid Russians.

-g