mybestkungfu's Diaryland Diary

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The Amazing Adventures of Jimmy Chew Bacca

I made her a sweater.
I cut head and armholes out of a sock.
Her fur tufts out of the armholes and it makes her look like
Ross� monkey, Marcel.
We pad down the hallway like thieves.
Just so she can get some exercise.
Just so she stops chewing the ends of my hair (apparently I spent three hundred dollars to look like an asshole).
Her little legs pump up and down like a rabbit.
She�s so cute I could step on her face.
�Get in the elevator�, I say.
She cringes as it heaves and hums � waiting for us to get in.
Her tiny paw slips through the gap between the elevator and the door as she tries to step inside.
�It�s alright�, I say. Maybe I�ll strap her to my leg next time.
I press for the 4th floor. Looking for the Barbeque area�
We wander aimlessly. I feel self conscious in my pajamas.
Hit the elevator button again, ride it down again.
She stands up the whole time. Her posture confident.
I kick her in the ribs accidentally while we are getting out. She yelps.
�Oops Sorry!� I say.
Apparently at 8 weeks of age, any disturbing incident for a puppy can turn into
Lifelong Irrational fears.
Give me the bad pet owner badge right now.

I hate it when people refer to themselves as �parents� to their pets.
The first time I�m going to be a Mommy is to a human baby.
This crying monkey in a sock is NOT my baby.
She�s my iddy biddy widow Chewy Choo Choo.

6:05 p.m. - Jun. 13, 2006

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