eeewwweee, that's yuck...

But oh, that's nice.

I like to be reminded of things, many things... things that make my hair defrizz, and a nice memory pop into my mind. Such as last night, or more like this morning.....

Mr. Husbandman cruised down the hallway this morning wearing his workboots. He doesn't do that very often, because they are work boots, and they do working things, like not walking around the house.. well, with the exception of passing along pertinent information, or more recently he uses them to walk around "the office". He let me know that the silly dog had had an accident in the night.. and to watch little Miss Ellpee. Ok, ewe, that's yuck...

But oh, that's nice.....

I didn't have to witness the yuck event, although it brought back a wonderful image of how different our now almost long deceased dog Cicely (a.k.a. evil queen) was compared to our lovely silly dingbatted Ellpee. It broke me up into laughter really. Cicely would never have gone to the bathroom in the house, had we been in the house to let her out... let me take you back a day or year or two......

Once upon a time, deep into the night, Cicely decided she needed out. (She quite often decided she needed out, and it wasn't exactly that she needed to go out and perform some function, but rather she just wanted out because she knew we would let her out.... or would we?) She waltzed over to the husbandmans side of the bed, and kicked up his hand with her nose. He didn't budge......and I saw it back then, and remember now... it was a bastardly non-budgeworthy event... he kind of swooshed her away, so the lovely Cicely would make her way to my side of the bed. I told her in no uncertain terms was I getting up, and letting her out.... she would have to go and talk to him. So she did. She turned around and made her way back to his side of the bed, and hrrummphed at him. There was no response by the husbandman. She nudged his hand again, and hrrumphed, and then batted him with her paw. Clearly the husbandman was dead, to the world. I liked the part when she jumped on him, and then proceeded to lick his face, and he never moved. I watched this go on for a while, then decided that I had to say something. I spoke to the lovely evil queen first, and asked her if this is what she is thinking right now.. had she been able to speak: "You dirty rotten bastard, you pretend to sleep while my bladder is close to bursting, and I need a breathe of freshair after all your snoring... I should just piss all over your disgusting carpet..... hmnmmmmph... " Both Cicely and I left the bedroom, and I let her out.... in the knick of time. I watched her scamper across the ugly cement deck patio, to a favourite spot in the lawn, where she proceeded to quickly lay down, next to her ball and stare back at me.... in the middle of the night. I asked her if she needed to go pee, which is when she got up, and trotted back into the house. She didn't need to go outside to pee, she just wanted to go outside for a breathe of fresh air. One more reason why we nick-named her evil queen... she was very good at playing evil tricks on us.

I crept back into the bed... of course being my normal self... at a temperature sub-optimal for sustaining life.... which then took me forever to warm up, and an eternity to back to sleep. I never said a word to the ever so silent sleeper husbandman. The next morning when the sun rose, and the world was right again... I said to Mr. Workaholic. "If you ever pull that deep-sleeping shit on me again, I will pour a bucket of ice water in a place where only you will know the pain!!!!". .... He just smiled and said the worst part was when Cicely would not stop licking his face in the middle of the night, it took all he could not to laugh and push her off.