Tuesday, February 10, 2009


I've been asked to give a little more detail on the subject of knucklehead. Where to begin? Where to begin?

Knucklehead is a 10 year old Weimaraner. Anyone who knows the breed is probably laughing right now. They are great dogs. . . as long as they get enough exercise. And when I say enough, I mean 3 to 4 hours of flat out running a day. When I first got him that's what he got. I was living on a horse farm and he could just mosey about wherever he wanted.

But we don't have the same freedom here in Stepford. Not only must you prove your dog has had his immunizations and pay too much to get a license but Stepford also has a leash law. That means that your dog must always be contained in the yard by a fence and can never be in public unless restrained on a leash. Neither solution gives Knucklehead enough space to burn off his 'enthusiasm' so he's always in overdrive racing around like a little coke fiend.

That alone wouldn't be the worse thing. There's also the fact that he's poorly trained. My fault! I know but as it stands our home is a maze of baby gates erected to keep him out of the kitchen and any other areas where food might ever be present because when he sees food, he becomes irrational. Like bum-rush-the-small-child-and-take-her-sandwich irrational. He doesn't bite and isn't particularly scary but when a 40 pound little girl sees a 100 pound dog coming for her PB&J, she's giving it up.

Oh, and then there's the fact that he's suicidal. Don't laugh. I'm serious. Knucklehead has had at least 10 near death experiences. Allow me to list a few of the good ones: he once jumped out a second floor window (not a scratch on him- I gave him an aspirin but skipped the vet); ate an entire container of rat poision; ate a corn cob (which was probably 25 cents worth of corn but it cost $5000 to get out of him); ran across 4 lanes of highway traffic and back without getting hit (for no reason either by the way); he has broken into his food and gorged himself at least 2 but probably 3 times (the first time he did it his stomach was so distended that the vet could feel the kibble from the outside of his belly); he broke a pane of glass banging on it and severed an artery; he once stole 2 Halloween sized bags of Kit-Kat's and not only ate all of the chocolate, but also the tinfoil and the plastic bag so as to hide the evidence. I only found out 2 days later when the tinfoil started showing up in the back yard- yuck!; and he has ingested (and expelled) more socks, bathrobe sashes, baby tights etc than any one person could count.

I think those few examples will make you agree that he is aptly named. Forget about the fact that the bugger can tell time and demands to be fed at exactly 7am and 5pm every day- no matter what! In fact, he's barking his head off right now because I'm 15 minutes late!

I'd gladly give him away if I didn't love the little punk so much. :)


Crazy Sister said...

He sounds hilarious! My dog dug up a passionfruit vine and ate all its roots today, and I thought that was bad, til I read this.

That does it, I'm following you.

Cottage Garden said...

I read your blog this morning for the first time and literally laughed out loud!!!!! I particularly loved your Mafia Mommy blog. We have similar senses of humor and command of the English language. How refreshing to find someone out there in cyberspace that shares my disdain for all of the mindless women we encounter in our lives. Nice work!!!!! I look forward to following your blog.

Stranded in Stepford said...

Thank you guys so much for following me! I'm humbled and I'll do my best to share the lunacy which is my life :)

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