My Weekend

I just wanted to provide my readers with a brief update on my weekend, the activities I engaged in and the progress I made with my mom.  I think she finally understanding that I'm a teenager, almost an adult really, and it's time for her to start respecting my space and provide me with some freedom.  One sticky area has been getting me my own bedroom I don't really see the issue, after all we live in a two bedroom apartment so clearly now that I'm nearly a grown man I should take the second bedroom.  It would be one thing if I was a girl but I'm not, I'm a man and its inappropriate to be sleeping in the same room with my mom.  Mom keeps saying that I can't have the extra bedroom because its not in fact an extra bedroom at all but rather Aunt Heather's bedroom.  So finally after a lot of foot stomping and bargaining we reached a compromise.

My very own queen sized bed.  About darn time. 

   Words can't describe how great that felt. Another weekend highlight - mom bought me a delicious bone which I've been throwing and retrieving since friday.  One thing that always frustrates me when I'm given a new delicacy is that the architectural design of our apartment provides no access to the outside to bury it; my options are abysmal. 

"Burying" my bone.

Saturday was equally amazing, mom ran errands which meant I got to go with her and wait in the car swaddled in not one, but two warm blankets.  That night mom and dad and I went over to a friends apartment where I made sure to assert my dominance over their dog by stealing all his toys and hoarding them in the corner.  The only bleak moment of the weekend occurred today when my dad put me in a box and prepared to ship me abroad, I felt so defeated.  

Abandonment

Helpless AND in my bra-
Please spare me your mockery. 

Eight days and 14 hours ago I was abandoned by the person I love most in the entire world, the person who I follow everywhere, the person I watch shower, the person I stare at out the window while standing on the table as she bikes to school; my mom.  I knew something was up when she pulled out her hideous red hard-top luggage and began putting in her various fur coats (or at least I assume thats what humans wear on their bodies).  I began to feel uneasy as I watched her carefully fold strappy things and various scented items and place them into the red hard-top luggage.  So naturally I did what any logical dog would do, I got inside the luggage. But that didn't stop her, she just gave me a sad knowing look.  The next day I thought things were looking up because she asked if I wanted to go on a car ride, I leapt 3 feet in the air all the while screaming YES in my mind. Duh, I love care rides - I'm a dog.  Dogs like to get in the car and let their ears flap in the wind, its what we do.  Anyway, I was totally 100% digging the car ride, especially when I realized we were going to Santa Cruz where my dad lives and where the DOG BEACH is, aka the best place on earth.  I almost wandered off with a suspicious vagabond homeless-esque man one time but thats a different story (lets just say that Mom came sprinting and went into total lame mom mode).  Anyhow we got to dad's house and I took off inside to say hi.  I love dads house because he has a backyard where on your average day I'll sniff for 30 to 45 minutes, roll in the grass and eat things I've found under the porch.  I've gotten stuck before which was mildly traumatizing but soon the tantalizing smells of the creatures living under the porch trumped my fears and I was back to business as usual.  Back to my story, that day I wasn't able to go outside because some man was doing my job - cutting the grass.  Thats another hobby of mine, grazing on grass until I'm sick to my stomach.  So I proceeded to cry and cry, I wanted to go outside so badly.  When I was finally able to go outside I'd play for a while then my desire to see my beloved mom would overcome and I'd come barreling back inside.  Each time she was there, thus you can see why I thought the whole hideous red luggage incident was no longer a concern.  Mom, dad and I then went to lunch. Well actually dad got his hair cut and mom bought lunch, she ate it in the car with me and fed me some of dad's rice because she said she was repulsed by the idea of eating raw fish in a barber shop - something ridiculous like "with all the hair flying around that place its bound to settle on my lunch." Her anxiety was lost on me though, but  then again I eat grass clumps and things found under the deck so clearly she and I have a different culinary preference.  SO dad eventually came back with his hair freshly chopped and we hit the road! So exciting! Before I knew it we were back at me and moms apartment..which I found odd.  And then the horror of what was about to become my reality struck me.  Mom was getting out of the car and I wasn't.  I did everything I could, I whined, I stood with both paws on the car door and stared at her but she coldly turned her back and walked away.  What followed was the worst week of my life, life where I had been abandoned by my mom - again.  Dad must have felt bad for me, knowing she wasn't coming back and all so to lift my spirits he took me to get my learners permit and taught me to drive.

Cruisin the streets. 

Men Wearing Bras

When I wear my bra, I lose the will to live.

Normally I like to use the blogosphere to gush about my mom. But I don't know if its the weather around here or some kind of seasonal depression that I'm experiencing, but once again I'm inclined to use this forum to vent.  My problem with her is simple really - I'm a dude yet the woman makes me wear a bra.  A front closure bra nonetheless! Arguably feminizing me even further. Honestly the humiliation of it all is exhausting and I'm kind of at my wits end.  She'll ask me if I want to go for a walk and my initial response is "ABSOLUTELY!!" I mean come on, I'm a dog - I live for walking the same path every day, it never fails to be fun.  However then I'm forced to watch as she reaches for that dreaded sign of canine servitude and my heart literally crumbles.  Usually I bolt under the kitchen table but when she bellows my name and commands me to come I'm semi obligated to obey - its like the house elves in Harry Potter; I basically have no choice.  So I'll slowly creep and crawl over to her with my tail between my legs and my ears plastered against against my skull.  She always asks what the problem is and genuinely seems confused.  Isn't it clear though!? You make me go out in public in a women's bra! How could there be even an iota of confusion.  I've often wondered why she does this to me.  Maybe its one of those over-possessive mom issues, where she clings to me and dreads the day that I find a spouse and move out.  Or maybe it doesn't go to a deep emotional level and its really just about control.  Either way, I'm never going to find a girl besides Mochi if I'm out in public wearing this thing.

A pretty cool picture right? I mean I'm a dog in a tree. Wrong. Not cool, because I'm wearing a bra.