Wednesday, February 06, 2008

They Worship Her

As early February storms assaulted the land last night, the Girls were assaulting Steph. Fauna couldn't leave Steph alone, and Raible kept rubbing her large, wet nose all over Steph's arm. They tried climbing on her; they scratched her up. Then Steph shook her fists at the sky and shouted:

"I cannot take it anymore you misfit dogs!"

Which caused me to burst out laughing. Hard. Because it's the brutal truth. We had the whiny-pants Nigra (the Sheltie), a spastic, jumpy Fauna Leena with claws that need trimmed (the Dalmation mix) and a frightened Raible (the Collie/Golden Retriever) all stuffing their faces into Steph's aura. She couldn't get away from them fast enough. I get to laugh because they don't worship me like they do their Mommy.

Mommy gets up and walks around the house, the Girls must follow. She goes to the bathroom, they each want a front row seat to that one. I tell her that I'd sit in with her while she goes to the bathroom, but she tells me that she'll have none of that.

So, as the Girls (particularly Fuana Leena) tried to get inside of Steph last night, it spurred more conversation about how we should just have a life-sized, giant Steph the Mommy Doll for the Girls. Raible could lick it all she wanted and Fauna Leena could actually get inside of it. There'd be Mommy stuffing all over the place. Raible and Fuana have been really playful lately, too, chasing each other and playing tug though, and so there would go Steph the Mommy Doll, dragged to the floor and pulled on both ends by two dogs.

Steph the Mommy Doll's beautifully pallid skin would become brown from mouth dirt. She'd have five-inch-long gapes with white stuffing squeezing out. Her long, brown hair would become all matted. But the real Steph would be sitting back in the recliner, enjoying peace for once.