Gross Dirty, The Final Frontier

When my brother was a baby, he had this yellow blanket that had been bequeathed to him by... well, me, I guess. My brother was born when I was six, so by the time he inherited this blanket, it was well-worn and more than a little tattered. He took it with him everywhere, dragging it on the floor, into the yard, to the grocery store. It earned the nickname Gross Dirty as I am sure, scant readers, you can imagine. Instead of the butter-yellow color it was when it was mine, when my brother carried it, it was the color of dishwater. Now, I PROMISE (sort of) that this will be my last post on this matter, but to the left, you will see cow carcass, which has become Sophie's Gross Dirty.

It has been a week, and Gross Dirty no longer resembles any animaloid creature. It has three stumps remaining, which could, I suppose, be considered as legs. There are no feet. No innards. No tail. She ripped the face off this past weekend. I think I found a snoutish thing the other day, but who can tell at this point? However, instead of abandoning this toy as soon as all of the squeaks were gone, as I had previously thought, she carries it with her. EVERYWHERE. She takes it outside to go potty. She lays on top of it when relaxing on the couch. She brings it to bed with her. It stays in her crate when I am at work. It is filthy and it stinks. Maybe I will try to get it away from her so I can wash it, but I am scared because I am pretty sure she likes cow rind better than me, and I don't know what will happen if I take it away. I don't want stumps for limbs.

Sophie cracks me up every day. I have always been a cat person. We never had dogs growing up, so I was unsure of what to expect. I will say this. Dogs love you in a way that cats never could. I love my cats, but I never worry about them like I worry about Sophie. I mean, cats don't spend inordinate amounts of time chewing into poisonous cleaning supplies. I think I was also unprepared for how gross dogs are. I'm sorry, but GROSS. Exhibit A being that disgusting, stink cowhide that Sophie has been carrying around in her mouth for the last week. Plus, Sophie needs a bath this weekend. She smells like Fritos when she needs a bath. Mmm. Fritos, right? NO. No living, breathing thing should smell like corn chips. Plus, it's corn chips x 20. Finally, she will eat ANYTHING. Besides poison. Gross things, like dirty Kleenex, cat litter, anything she finds on the ground (I used to just get annoyed with litterers, now they make me furious, as I have to dig around in my dog's mouth for whatever some lazy ass couldn't throw in a garbage can), and oh yeah, she likes to dig around in garbage cans too... She has recently been taking little mouthfuls of dirt from my house plants, which she then smacks around in her mouth until these little mud boluses are created for her to sprinkle on my rug. This picture here is of all of the detritus she has placed on my deck. This actually does help when I am mowing, but still. The thing on the left is a soccer ball. I have 6' fences surrounding my backyard. I also don't play soccer. Where in the hell did she get this? I don't know, but I doubt she could have found a more disgusting soccer ball. I am actually frightened of it.