RyRySays

I have a dog. Her name's Layla and I wouldn't trade her for anything. However, sometimes she gets on my last damn nerve. For example, lately she has decided that under the porch is a good place to explore.

My backyard isn't very big and she has to go on a line because she likes to wander around on streets, swim in algae filled ponds and eat the neighbor's cat's food. And she's not so good with the not running away. She comes back, but she takes her sweet ass time to do so. Anyways, under the porch is filled with lovely, cool mud. Black mud. She's a golden retriever mix so she has long hair. Long hair which likes the mud.

This morning, Layla thought it'd be a good idea to lie in some mud. After my shower, I open the back door to see her nowhere in sight. This means she's under the porch. This also means I must go under the porch because she inevitably tangles the line in the steps. Idiot dog. So she's covered in mud and I have to leave to get to class. I figured I'd just put her in the bathroom since I'd only be gone 2 hours and clean her when I got home. She was not up for that plan. She ran around the house, feet covered in mud and refused to go in the bathroom. I didn't have time to argue with her so I just let her stay in the house.

There is a dog print on the carpet in the family room. It's like someone drew a chalk outline, which might happen soon if the stain doesn't come out.