Pseudodad

It all started with this event a few months ago during the summer:

Let me get into the background information before we go into this story.

We have a Chihuahua named Scout (To Kill A Mocking Bird) and a Toy Fox Terrier named Arya (Game of Thrones) but the TFT is a princess so she might as well be a Chihuahua.

Here are the dogs, Scout on the left and Arya on the right, with chola eyebrows:

“AY DIOS MIO”

These dogs are spoiled. I don’t think, for the first two weeks we had Scout, that she ever set her feet on the ground because M. carried her in a purse. These dogs get treats daily, all the attention they can handle and while some dogs get pillows on the floor, these dogs have THEIR OWN CHAIR to sit on.

Unfortunately, these dogs also have a knack for teaming up and attacking small woodland creatures.

“SCOUT AND ARYA ATE LARRY THE SQUIRREL!!!! HE WAS TOO YOUNG TO DIE!!!!!”

The amount of dead birds, chipmunks, and mice we find weekly on the patio would make a PETA member pass out or feed a redneck family of four.

I take full blame for these animal assassins. Small dogs tend to be “yippee” so I bought both of them anti-bark collars. What I thought would be collars meant to quiet them down and ensure the neighbors didn’t come after us with pitchforks may have had a small side effect…

Stealth. Mobility.

 

Suddenly, it was as if the League of Shadows trained our dogs.

“To conquer fear, you must become fear.”

Or channeled Pikachu and learned “quick attack”.

 “PIIIIIIIKAAAASCOUT!!!!!”

But what I really think it all came down to was that fateful summer day when our dogs were made to look like pansies by that nasty opossum in the video. That was the day they vowed to get their revenge. After that video was taken they started running around the yard a little more often to get into shape, Arya started walking on her front paws (not even kidding), and probably most importantly they started hanging out with rappers like Nicki Minaj.

“Bad Bitches Like Me Is Hard To Come By”

Okay. So maybe I made that last one up but that image is what I get in my head when I hear that line her song “Starships.”

I hope now you will too.

Then last week all of their training paid off. Ken and I were getting ready to turn in but first had to let the dogs outside one more time to use the bathroom. The dogs ran outside and within seconds the most god-awful noise came out of some… THING! I flipped on the lights and Arya had the possum by its neck and was swinging it around. Scout started to join the brawl when it when it wriggled away and scurried over the fence.

The dogs were victorious.

They even got their own celebratory FB status.

“#UselessHashtagsAreFun”

All was peaceful and calm in the backyard until last night when I was sitting on the couch and I heard “YIPE YIPE YIPE YIPE YIPE.” I jumped up to look outside and saw Scout getting her little ass chased by that bastard opossum.  I, of course, ran outside and scared the thing over the fence again.

Now… we are a gun-owning family… I could hear the gasps of shock, but seriously, we live in Kansas. You get a gun in middle school when you get your braces put on and you get two more when you get them taken off.

Weddings, Wakes, Hemorrhoid Check Up – Gun, Gun, Gun.

If Oprah lived in Kansas City, her “Favorite Things” phrase would look like this:

“Maybe that would keep Tom Cruise from jumping on mah damn couch.”

I’m off track. Sorry. My point is that there we have a gun but we can’t use it because there are too many people, places and things to hit and winding up in jail isn’t worth fighting my dogs’ vendetta.

So what is any normal and sane person do?

I grabbed our Zombie Hatchet (FYI: you don’t have to reload those) and a flashlight to go all Liam Neeson on the possum.

“Go get ’em Evan”

 Let’s just pause this scene a minute and analyze what’s going on.

You have a two-glass of wine altered Evan, in his boxers, armed with a hatchet and flash light, pissed off because he is missing Glee AND this possum won’t go away.

Yes yes yes yes yes.

This can only end well.

**Unpause**

In my “Possum Killing Fury” the thought of “What am I doing?” finally dawned on me as I got to the backdoor.

I mulled that around in my head for a second but did that stop me?

AHW HELL NAH

I. Was. Missing. Glee.

 

I just had to give me neighbor a heads up and below is what made it to her FB.

I ran outside like Clint Eastwood (pre-empty chair days), made eye contact with my intended victim…

…and that’s when the fucker ran under the fence. Again.

I now understand how Wyle Coyote felt.

I wanted to order everything from ACME and blow some shit up like Michael Bay does in every movie or how Lindsay Lohan blew up her career.

And as much as I’d like to say that I turned that faceoff into the final scene of the Hunger Games and let the dogs make the final blow to the possum…

I went back inside defeated.

So now I turn my readers.

Aside from calling a pest control company – what would you do?

I’m one chased dog away from putting anti-freeze in cat food and leaving it outside.

Your thoughts?