Monday, August 07, 2006
I Knew My Mommy was Addicted When...
I noticed that my mommy was busy writing her latest blog.
It is completely abhorrent that she would write about cycling in addition to actually going cycling, buying clothing for cycling, preparing for cycling, dreaming about cycling, and so forth, when she should, by all rhyme and reason, be taking me for another walk.
After all it is summer. What is summer but for walks when it comes to doggies? I have my rights too. I also have the right to take as long as I want during that walk, because you know, like life, summer is short.
So I have decided, while sitting here and watching her gosh darn back while she is typing furiously on that ridiculous computer (the difference between she and I is that I dictate to her mother's ghost, who is also my editor, while she is asleep), that I am going to formulate my own list of how I know mommy is addicted to cycling.
Here goes; I knew my mommy was addicted to cycling when:
--On a perfectly gorgeous day she decides to go cycling instead of taking me for a walk;
--On a not-so-gorgeous day, with clouds predicted, she decides to go cycling instead of taking me for a walk;
--On a rainy day with rain all day predicted, she decides to go cycling, and doesn't come back for two hours;
--On a rainy day with a hurricane predicted, she gets up early and goes cycling, and doesn't come back for three hours;
--On a snowy day, with more snow predicted, and ice on the road, she goes cycling and doesn't come back for four hours;
--When it reached 102 degrees outside last week, she went cycling instead of taking me to the lake;
--She goes out every weekend for a minimum of four hours a day and when she comes back, she's "too tired" to take me out for one hour;
--She promises all summer long to take me to Bear Mountain, but when we go, she puts me in the car while she goes for a 2-hour ride, and then takes me for a half hour walk;
--She spends more money on bike clothing than she does on a proper doggie bed for me;
--She moves her legs in her sleep as if she is cycling;
-- She also shouts out every once in a while, "Get off your f--ing phone, you idiot," and gestures with her middle finger, but I have no idea whom she is speaking to;
--She offers me pieces of her Balance Bar instead of real food because she hasn't gone shopping for real food in a week, (and I eat it);
--She has insisted every day when I mention that her bike riding is getting excessive that she would be perfectly happy if I could just stay still in that child carrier (which is not built for me) and come along, which I have no intent of doing because it's too dangerous;
We all know that dogs are infinitely smarter than humans, and on this particular subject I excel: cycling is dangerous.
Case in point: in my lifetime, which has been quite long I might add, I have never broken a single bone. But Mommy? By the time she was 10 she had already broken her finger and torn her ankle. By the time she was 23 she had broken both wrists, and possibly a leg (or so she says).
I don't think I will ever become addicted to cycling, but you never know. There could come a day when some nice person actually designs a real carrier for doggies that makes me feel safe and on top of the world, and maybe even lets me run a little when I feel like it.
That would be fun.