I have four purebred German Shepherds.
I know. We’re known as the crazy couple with four German Shepherds because who the hell has four big, hairy dogs living with them?
We can’t help it. We love them. We don’t consider our dogs “dogs”, but rather, our children, and since I’m alone most of the day with my vacuum in hand, I have conversations with my kids. I mean, who doesn’t? What’s great about it is that they talk back. I mean, not like using the English language because if I heard them actually speaking to me, I would need to be put in the nut house. They speak through their eyes and facial expressions–we often have meaningful dialogue.
First, I need to give you a little background into our four kids so you know who I’m dealing with on a daily basis.
From oldest to youngest there is Lucy (3 years), Crusher (2 years), Gunther (8 months), and Otto (8 months). Gunther and Otto are brothers.
Yes. Know you can call me certifiably nuts since I’m a parent to two 8 month old male dogs, er kids. It’s like having twins but with a lot more hair and they poop outside.
Lucy is the queen of her domain. This is fortunate because she’s the only queen among the kids. The rest–at least to her–are her pawns to be mocked, nipped at and mandated to clean her privates at a moment’s notice. One of her many talents is being a contortionist. As you can see from the picture, she seems to be pointing at something using her front and back leg. She thinks she is fooling us by watching the house, but we know better; that bitch is sounds asleep. Additionally, being a female German Shepherd, she is often aloof. She can give a rat’s ass if someone wants to pet her, and she is also my alarm clock. At precisely 7:15 every morning, she gently licks my shoulder to wake me up. This is followed by licking of the entire face. She will not stop until I sit upright.
She truly lives up to the word, Bitch.
Crusher is Daddy’s boy. Dave even puts a little cologne on the top of Crusher’s head before he leaves for work. He is in command of keeping watch and teaches his little brothers his bad habits. He’s the Alpha dog; king male of the house. If you mess with him, be prepared to have his jaws around your neck. He is on constant surveillance; like a soldier who has to guard his troops. He hates squirrels like most people hate Lindsay Lohan. He likes to watch football, but is scared to death of the vacuum cleaner.
Otto is our under achiever. At eight months old, he is 95 pounds and still doesn’t realize he has hind legs to hoist his bear-like ass on to the couch. He’s easy-going, sweet, and wants to sit on your lap while unintentionally cutting off your oxygen supply. As opposed to Crusher, he hates the vacuum cleaner and looks at it like an intruder. He is also Mommy’s boy and follows me around everywhere I go. It gets sort of annoying when he puts his body directly in front of mine while I’m trying to walk; and we all know how badly I walk. I secretly think he wants to put me in traction so he can lay next to me the entire day while not moving a muscle–which is pretty much what he does now.
Gunther is the king in waiting. He attempts to be the Alpha dog, but Crusher will have none of his shenanigans. Gunther steals toys from the other kids and sits on top of them to keep them for himself. He is very wary of people, trusting no one he meets. He insists on asking for a photo I.D. and finger printing people who walk into our home. I think he may be distantly related to Hitler but I can’t be certain.
I recently had a conversation with my kids. This is how it typically goes:
Me: “So what do you want to do today, guys?”
Lucy: “I’m not a guy.”
Me: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend her highness.”
Lucy: “Whatever. I forgive you now, so I will lick your face. Please stand still so I get every square inch including your eyeballs.”
Crusher: “Can we go for a walk? I want to smell that dead squirrel on the sidewalk.”
Me: “Do all of you want to go for a walk? Do you?”
Otto: “Did you say cookie?”
They all go running for the door (except Otto since he thinks every word that comes out of my mouth is, “cookie”). Lucy starts whimpering and I know she’s going to get out of control as soon as she sees the leash.
Gunther: “I GET TO GO FIRST! I GET TO GO FIRST! PUT THAT THING AROUND MY NECK!!!”
Crusher: “NO! I GET TO GO FIRST! I’M IN COMMAND HERE!!!”
Me: “Everybody settle down. Lucy, get off the table!”
Lucy: “Jesus! What happened to ladies first around here?”
Otto: “I’ll wait right here for you, mommy. I love you. Now give me a cookie.”
I take Gunther and Crusher out first for their walks. Otto starts barking as I close the gate.
Otto: “Hey! WHERE THE HELL IS MY COOKIE!!!!??”
When I come back from the first round of walks, Otto and Lucy are waiting by the gate for their turn. Lucy immediately starts going into her crazed excitement.
Lucy: “Okay, okay, okay! I can’t wait to go! I just want to get away from these boys!”
Me: “Well, Otto is coming with you.”
Lucy: “That’s okay. I’m in love with Otto.”
Otto: “That’s right. She can’t resist a guy with a big butt and a cookies in his mouth.”
Me: “Oh, is that the reason?”
Otto: “Well, no. She’s just a slut.”
Lucy: “Queen slut to you.”
Otto: “Mommy, can I have a cookie?”
Me: “Only if Weight Watchers makes dog cookies, and I don’t think they do. You’ll have to wait until lunch time.”
Otto: “Fine. But, I’m staaaarrrrvvvving.”
Me: “Don’t give me that sorry look. It’s not going to get you a cookie, Otto.”
Otto: Underneath his dog breath, “Bitch.”
And, there you have it. The conversations vary throughout the day depending on what it is I’m doing, and just like most kids I often have to break up fights over toys and where someone pee’d. The kids also love car rides. Crusher didn’t know that the car actually moved when he was a puppy, and decided to jump out of it while I was driving. He told me afterwards that he saw a squirrel.
I grounded him for a week after that stunt.
Gotta love our four-legged children!