I give up. I try to make the idiot of an animal comfortable, and this is what happens. He can't be that bored. He somehow broke the zipper on the bed and had the time of his short life with all the filling. I no longer care if he's uncomfortable on hard plastic. As I was picking up the gross presents he left all over the plastic grass in the 106 degree heat today, I wondered why I like to torture myself. I knew I would think this animal was a big, slobbery pain in the neck shortly after we got him. I'm at that point now. So, what can be done? Nothing; I have at least 10 more years with this thing. He is not my best friend. 
Maybe one day he'll be a good watchdog...with a sword.
3 comments:
Tank's bed has looked like that for months now. If he wants to rip it up, make him sleep on it.
Oh dear, I so hear ya. I will NEVER make another commitment to a damn dog again. I have realized the hard way that I am not an animal person. They are stinky and vile creatures.
I heard on the radio the other day of a guy who was looking for an actor for hire on craigslist to come walk his dog and "accidentally" lose it (he found it another home). This dad didn't want to be the bad guy to his kids, but couldn't stand the dog. Sounds like a good idea to me! :o)
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