Poor Charlie Brown...

So, I have a dog. He is a Yorkie shih-tzu poodle mix, which is to say “small breed mutt”. He’s really super cute, actually!

            My pupper dogs name is Charlie, and he just turned a year old last week. Let me tell you-he is like my second child. I absolutely *adore* my canine!

            Only one problem…

            Charlie hates me. And he’s smart enough to find really interesting ways of getting his point across.

            For instance: I don’t think I’ve owned a single pair of underwear that has made it from when he arrived at my home to the present time. I’m serious. He has eaten them all. It doesn’t matter if they’re up high or in a hamper. This dog has springs when it comes to removing my panties off of my dresser! As for the hamper? Tip it over, and all of the things come out. That seems to be his method!

            When he’s not eating my undies (or pajama pants)…it’s all about:

            That’s right. Shoes. He is a mother-effer when it comes to eating my left shoes. Only the left ones, though. Again, I don’t think a single pair of my foot attire has made it unscathed in this past year. Even my heals have a few bite marks. My sneakers? The laces are missing their end caps. On Every. Pair. It’s an issue.

            Now, let me say, my dog is also smart. Really smart. We think he can count to five, since we tell him to go up a certain number of stairs and he will go up the amount we say. He also knows how to give high fives. I mean, this dog is smart. He is well trained in all sorts of weirdness. It’s the normal “sit” “stay” “walk without hanging yourself on your leash” commands that give him issue. I think he knows damn well that when we say “sit”, he should only touch his hind quarters to the ground. Instead, he insists on laying on his back or just plain plopping down, all four legs outstretched. The best part is his facial expression. He is always looking at you like, “See? I’m *amazing*! Clap, human!”

            Today, though, might take the cake.

            I groom my dog myself, since…well…I can? Today, though, as I was trimming up his face with the clippers, I looked away to put the guard in the clipper case and Charlie decided to investigate the buzzing mechanism in my hand. That’s right. He sniffed the RUNNING clipper! Which means he is missing a patch of fur on the right side of his snout! Looks ridiculous! Poor thing!  I had to trim the other side down extra close to try to even things out a bit, but Charlie just looked at my like, “Why?!?!?! Isn’t it enough that you have NEUTERED ME?! You had to get my FACE?!?!?!!”

            Poor pupper dog. It’ll grow back….right?!?!?