Fox Dog, aka Brutus
My dog knew my ex had a girlfriend before I did, and the dirty, rotten, little rat bastard didn't tell me.
Et tu, Brute?
Jack watched my dog several times this year while I was out of town, which I very much appreciated. I was at the old family home dropping Fox off before I went to Idaho to fish with my son Pedro in Bonner's Ferry.
Jack seemed happy to see the dog, and he volunteered to watch the dog again in August when I was going to see my dad in Ohio. The catch: Jack was on call for one of the weekends.
"I can get a fellow or resident to watch the dog for those days," Jack said. He seemed flummoxed and I thought it was really weird to ask one of his underlings at work to dog sit. I offered to find another dog sitter, and he said, no, he'd figure something out. Fine with me. This was going to save me a ton of stress for finding a dog sitter.
He didn't get a fellow to watch the dog that weekend. He got his new GF to watch the dog.
I actually kind of feel sorry for his new GF, in a way. What did he tell her? "Hey, I gotta work. Can you watch my ex-wife's dog for the weekend? By way, I haven't told her about you yet, so stay in the shadows." Or, did he come up with some whopper of a lie to her, too?
Did I mention that my daughter and I are going to Brazil next month to see Taylor Swift in Rio? Yeah. Why I am letting this crap bring me down when I have a trip of a lifetime coming up in a few weeks?
No comments:
Post a Comment