Idiot Parade

As much as I try to be an easy going person, I’d be completely delusional to deny that there are some things, many things, actually, that just annoy me to no end. People stuffing trash in places where trash does not go because someone else is employed to clean it up. Parents ignoring their misbehaving children. Twitards. Yankee fans. Onions having the audacity to sting my eyes when I’m trying to make dinner. One sounds has quickly climbed to the top of this list, and it is one of few annyoing things that makes me feel like I’m a wrecthed and intolerant woman who should not be allowed to have pets, ever.

Dogs whining.

Sounds harmless, and usually, it is. Except that Molly has entered her first heat. She’s not fixed, and won’t be until Tuesday. Neither is our male dog, Jack. And the whining will. Not. End.

I know it isn’t their faults. Molly is swollen and probably in quite a bit of pain, and possibly confused because she and her mother may not have had The Talk and I don’t speak Dog. Jack is equally bewildered; he’s never been around a fertile female dog, so hes flipping out. They’re seperated, because puppies would not be helpful, which, in my foolishness, I thought would be much less painful. But they’re best friends, horny best friends at that, and OH MY GOD THE WHINING. Molly is locked in our room with me, going completely beserk, Jack is at our window and I wouldn’t be surprised if he started throwing pepples at it and serenading Molly with a boom box over his head. And while I appreciate their pain, the sounds coming out of their mouths are not sounds that should be uttered by any creature on this earth, but rather pathetic high pitched soungs composed by Lucifer himself that he created for the sole purpose of making humans torture themselves and others. If this sound is what drove people to madness and caused the Spanish Inquisition, the witch trials, and JFK’s assassination, I would not be the least bit surprised.

So now I’m ready to stick a pencil in my eye in order to distract myself from this hellish ruckus, I feel guilty about hating it this much because the dogs can’t help that they just want sex, and I have these drifting thoughts that Oh My God, if I can’t handle whining dogs, what about whining children? What if my baby starts crying? Will that annoy me too? Does my lack of patience reflect on my inadequacy as a future mother? AM I THAT PERSON WHO SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO BREED??

These are not things one should have to think about when she is awake at 3:30 am because whining dogs woke her up again. That’s all I’m saying.

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 10th, 2010 at 8:59 am and is filed under Daily, Teh amenals!. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.