my bitch is in heat. what? she IS!

We have this two year old dog that is just the BEST dog ever!  She’s my guard dog- you may remember a little story about how she saved my LIFE last year.  She’s also the best kid dog- she lets the kids ride on her.  She also senses paranormal activity.  Why wouldn’t I want to let her procreate.  I’d take three or four of her!

When we first got Eva (named by the Little Miss after the lady robot on Wall-E which was huge when we got her) we waited a little too long to get her fixed.  Money was a little tight and it wasn’t a huge priority.  Then as we got to know her and love her, we thought it might be fun to let her have pups… maybe.  (Keep your judgy ASPCA comments to yourself if you don’t agree with this.  I’ve been known to knife a bitch for less.)  Then we met a male dog we decided would be her soul mate… or at lease make babies with her.  SO- it was settled… the dog wasn’t going under the knife any time soon.

Eva’s gone into heat twice before.  It’s never really been a big deal.   She hasn’t lost her mind all that bad and we’ve avoided unwanted suitors.  Then… this month happened.

THE BITCH LOST HER MIND!!!  She has scaled fences in a single leap.  She has run and run and run as only Forest Gump could inspire to find her man and do her thang.  She is a whore.

And she’s found someone.  He’s a… wait for it… mutt.  *GASP!*

He circles my house.  He stood with his front paws on my window sill, nose pressed to the cold glass, eyes clouded with testosterone – looking, panting for his lady.  It’s freaking COLD outside right now and that dog has spent the past two days and nights circling my house like a piranha, waiting to devour my little lady.

And she… is a maniac.  She runs circles around the house.  Living room window to back door to garage to upstairs window to- HOLY SHIT.  She is looking for a window to jump out of to go and get herself plowed by a damn mutt!  Has she no dignity?

I called Hubby today to tell him what was going on and he said, “when I get home, I’m going down to talk to his parents!”  And then it hit me…

This is what we’ll be going through in about 10 years with the Little Miss.   {Please dear Baby Jesus in a Manger let it be ten years! PLEASE!}  Oh my God.  The boys will be lined up in the yard and circling the house like rabid dogs and my baby will be perched up there looking down deciding which mutt she’ll choose and her daddy will be perched in the garage with a shot gun and I’ll be racked out on the couch with a bottle of wine and a Xanax.

This is not good.  Tomorrow… the bitch gets spayed.  (The dog… NOT the Little Miss.  Jeesh!)


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