How it came to pass: Random bob was accosted by a dildo

First off,
Sit down; it will be a long journey to the punch line on this one, folks.



It all started when I got home last Friday…
The lil’ woman goes to work late in the afternoon on Fridays, and I work late in the morning and get home about 2 hours after she’s vacated my house. It turns out that this is just enough time for the puppies – Chase & Hunter – to boldly kill a rug. This was not the first time, either. And not even the first time for this rug. So, what’s a good dog father to do?

I beat them with it (don’t worry, it was a light beating at best). Made lots of angry noises. Felt better, let them think about what they had done, and then carried on with my night, which may or may not have involved internet pron & a nap. Definitely some PB&J for dinner though. Home alone? No leftovers? Oh yeah, PB&J – it’s the other other white meat.



Seriously, who does she think she’s hiding it from?
It came to pass that The Girl eventually had to fess up that she does indeed own a dildo. It came up in conversation one day not too long ago, and apparently the way I brought it up insinuated that I knew something she didn’t think I knew: namely, that she indeed had a vibrator (note: vibrator & dildo will be used interchangeably – deal with it). The thing was, I didn’t necessarily know, I was just being silly and stated it as fact while making another point. She felt called-out and owned up to it, though. But I didn’t actually know.


Which is entirely false. I did know. Not firsthand mind you, but who do we think we’re fooling exactly? A young horny woman without a dildo is like a man with internet access that’s never seen porn. Neither actually exist in the real world. So yeah, I knew. But I didn’t. You get me, right? I hadn’t actually seen it or looked for it, but I knew enough to know it existed and also enough to know that if I had wanted to see it, about where I’d probably find it, knowing her.

Anyway, what I didn’t know was that she actually has/had two of them. That was news to me. That came as quite a shock when one night I reached over to grab it (for her! For her!), and wouldn’t you know it, but: a) I did know exactly where it was, and b) she had two of them. I might have already said that, but yeah it was that shocking at the time.

She hid it in the top drawer of her nightstand. Really. In a silk baggy that could only have one use: to hide a vibrator or twelve. Seriously: who did she think she was fooling here?



Funny thing happened when I got home on Saturday
As it turned out, Saturday’s scheduling was pretty much an exact copy of Friday’s. There was an hour give or take, but basically I left for work mid-morning and she left for work late afternoon. I returned early evening, let’s say a full two hours after she had vacated my house this time around. I’ll give you a whopping ONE guess as to what happened.

The dogs – same two puppies, of course – had decided that the rug was CLEARLY that good. So good. So VERY good, that they needed to pull it back outside and continue tearing it a new one. Or I guess maybe on the second day it’s an “old one,” but whatever it is I don’t really want to touch it I think.

I was pissed, as you can imagine.

I mean, they do it, get reprimanded for it, and decide to try again not 24 hours later? Are they trying out for the definition of insanity or something? Because what they got was pretty much in line with what you might expect considering previous experience: I beat them. Except this time I was not just mad, I was f*cking livid. How dare they do this; how dare they test my authority on the matter. Dammit, I say the rug stays unchewed, it better damned-well STAY UNCHEWED.

It was a pretty savage beating on the one hand. I was mad, they were in trouble, and dammit I was going to put it to them. But it was pretty tame on the other. The problem for me was that I was trying to beat them with said chewing device. This wasn’t really an adequate beating utensil to say the least. It was like… I’m having trouble coming up with an analogy, other than to say that it was like trying to beat a pair of dogs with some loose yarn, if you can imagine. It doesn’t work too effectively – you can’t get any force behind loose yarn, believe that or not.

But damned if I didn’t try my hardest. After all, they had chewed the rug two days in a row, the 2nd time after having been beaten for it the 1st time! So I did, I did try pretty dang hard to beat them into compliance. The yarn wasn’t doing much to help me, so I had to put forth all of the beating effort on my own.

At which point, my right shoulder slipped out of joint.

This had never happened to me before. I was both in shock, and in pain. Holy Hell, now I was pissed at the dogs, and a little pissed at my shoulder for having given up the good fight over some yarn. But dammit the lesson needed lessoning, so I switched arms.

At which point, my left shoulder slipped out of joint.

I’d already mentioned that this had never happened before, right? Imagine my surprise then, when not only one of my shoulders, but TWO – BOTH – of my shoulders decided to slip out of joint on the same day, maybe 15 seconds apart.



Another funny thing happened when I got home on Tuesday night…
I don’t know exactly what is up with them right now, but Chase & Hunter seem to go through phases. Sometimes we’ll go weeks without anything wrong. They get lots of praise & love, we’re all happy, we try to reinforce that great things happen to good dogs, right?

But sometimes we go through equal and opposite phases, too. And I know they’re just puppies still, and labrador puppies at that. Miles was his most obnoxious & trying during about this same stage of his life. Same stuff almost; definitely the same thickheadedness, that’s for certain. I know they’ll grow out of it, I know that they’ll figure it out and just get over it eventually, we just need to be vigilant until then.

Knowing that doesn’t make it much easier though, when they’re going through stages that are quite the opposite of “good.” This last week has been one of those. They have been hellions on paws.

I had Wednesday & Thursday off, and initially we had planned a one-or-two-day camping trip down south of here. Those hopes were dashed Tuesday night however, when I got home to find the puppies out back (I usually enter from the back, through the garage). All looked clear enough at first, and I was about to lay generous praise on them for having been so good. About that time, I tried to open the back door to find that it was locked, with them outside it. This is not good. This means, that The Girl got home before I did, they had done something bad, and she locked them outside.

It dawned on me that when I had walked into the backyard, a certain barrier we’ve had up to keep them off the grass while it’s reseeding was down. I hadn’t thought much of it since all seemed OK at first glance. But now they were under intense suspicion. It was dark, and the lil’ woman was in the shower, so I poked inside real fast and grabbed a flashlight.

Normally when they dig, they pick a spot and make a quick hole out of it. It’s not pretty, it destroys the little seedling grass hairs that I spent so much time nurturing, but it’s at the least contained to a specific area. What the decided to do on Tuesday night was not this. The decided that rather than pick a spot and have a minute or two of fun, that they should instead divide their time between no less than less than four holes.

So pretty much our entire backyard. They’re powerful,excellent diggers, you understand.

And of course I did what any good dog father would do: I went completely apesh!it and beat the living tar out of them. This was made a little difficult by the fact that my shoulders were still sore from the whole “slipping out of joint” thing the few nights before. But I managed, despite a little pain. I also managed to scare the living crap out of them, and also remain more or less composed myself.

I didn’t want another shoulder episode, obviously.

In addition to being scared sh!tless and being thrown into and then reprimanded inside of their own holes, I decided that instead of sleeping in their warm, fluffy beds that we paid $20-each for, inside the house, behind the couch, they would instead stay the night outside.

I should note here that although we paid $20 for them to have nice, comfy beds to lay in, we’re pretty sure they just sleep on the couch instead. But I digress.

This didn’t do wonders for my sleeping pattern that evening. Not only did they decide to whine here & there, but there was the added confusion for our other two dogs. Not that they can’t manage sleeping on their own inside, all comfy in their beds, but locking the other two out meant, conversely, that they were locked in. Which makes potty breaks that much harder for everyone.

I managed to wake up each time Miles headed for the door to open it. I tried to steer him to the front door, out to the front lawn to do his business, but as you may or may not know (you know now though), Miles is a creature of habit and routine; going out front in the middle of the night is not the routine. And he knows it, and he’ll let you know that he’s picked up on it. I simply got stared at like I was supposed to maybe throw a bone or something, or maybe recite my newly-acquired 10 commandments or something. It’s a cute look he gives, but at oh-dark-thirty, and then again at half-passed oh-dark-thirty, I really just wanted to see some dog tinkle and go to bed.

So yeah, I had to let him out back to do his ‘business,’ whilst keeping the bad dogs out, and letting them know I was still upset and they still were not coming inside. This process – repeated 3-4 times throughout the course of the night, at Miles’ leisure – was a surefire way to get me to cancel any sort of camping & hiking expedition for the next morning.

It also did nothing good for the overall well-being of my shoulders.



Random bob gets laid!
Calm down, it’s easy work for me. Remember: horny girl; dildo. Getting laid for me requires as little as a grunt, and at most giving directions to where the party place indeed is.

But still, it was an achievement, if only because my shoulders were still so painful from the nights before that I was not sure I could do anything but lay still and grunt. Which probably would have been enough, but dammit I wanted to try to make an effort!

And so, it was that a worthy effort was made.

Unfortunately, this also wasn’t necessarily the best thing for my shoulders. At the time it seemed fine, but afterwards as we lay there, my shoulders were feeling the pinch. And as I had just performed a good service, I demanded that The Girl give my shoulders a rub (note: by “demanded,” I mean to imply that I pouted and nagged until she caved in). Turns out, her wrists were sore. She’s only a girl so I never bothered to inquire as to why, but as it was impacting my shoulder rub, I had to ask if she was alright to continue, and what I could do to make it easier on her to perform this basic, requisite duty. Perhaps if she didn’t have to use her fingers to apply so much pressure, she suggested.



And then...
Maybe if she used her vibrator to poke at my shoulder, she suggested. So she could have a good grip and put some force to it without hurting her wrist, you understand.

So, you see how this happened. I told you all of the previous stories so that this one would make a little more sense. I mean, I was in pain, and she said she needed it to complete the massage. I was almost an unwitting participant. The dogs, the woman – all conspired against me here. And now, I just feel violated & taken advantage of.

How did it feel? Like a dildo was poking my shoulder, that’s how. It didn’t do anything for me. Look, I was young, she was in college, we experimented, OK? But it’s not my thing. And I don’t think I’ll ever do it again.

Unless I can maybe find the tiger-striped vibrator featured above. Then I may reconsider the vibrator shoulder massage. Maybe.


NOTE:
If you are The Girl, or you are a family member of The Girl: The Girl would like me to inform you that in no way has she ever done the things I am accusing her of. She’s innocent, and as such has never even had a sexual thought in her life. The stories you read here are completely the figment of my imagination. She would like me to assure you that she doesn’t even know what a dildo is, and does not find any of this humorous in the least, except maybe a little bit, maybe. She furthermore would like that I inform you that she is indeed mortified that such a lie would be spread, and once again, asks that I assure you, fellow readers/family members of the The Girl, that no such event or device has been in her existence.

If you’re related to ME, then it was all her idea :-)