Warning: ramble

To be honest, I'm tired of editing, but I know I have to finish. I've decided to do a colour skim: all problematic weed words have been replaced with coloured versions so I can spot them as I skim down the pages. I'm that tired of editing that finding every single incident using the find function has deflated my brain.

I have a full three weeks of kennel work this month tiring me out too. Dogs... Sometimes I know I don't like dogs. That dog shaming website is doing a service to all humans everywhere, giving them fair warning of the manipulative workings of the dog mind. Yeah, and we bred them that way, from way back. They're smart all right, smart at figuring how to make humans give up that cookie, make space on the bed, ignore the yellowed couch that a dirty butt keeps rubbing until it stinks to high heaven. Highly recommended: read the dog shaming blog before ever buying a dog, or work at a kennel for a week. You'll either realize you really like dogs or that you don't like dogs at all.

I always say this to my kids: if you can't handle the shit, don't buy the animal.


Dogs shit to annoy you. They'll shit right where they need to walk to leave a cage, jump on it, spread the shit all over the walls and cage links, all because you let another dog get out the door to the dog runs first. 

My best friend in the kennel is not a dog. It's a whisk and metal dust pan, for scooping up those shits fast before stomping occurs. Manipulative dog remains in the cage until it's his turn out the door with the others, because otherwise, he just keeps stomping.

Dirty job, yep. Expect shit. Expect splashed shit. Expect excited dogs to jump on you with shitty paws. Kill if anyone is in the shower when you're due home after working in the kennel.

I'm a little grumpy this morning. It's not entirely because of needing to go clean dog shit, which I'm about to do. This entire review scandal pissed me off too. I struggle enough as a writer as it is without dishonest authors making me look bad for having decent reviews when it took so long to get any readers to leave them. 

Anyhow, it's off to the dogs. Funny, but they like me for some reason. Can't figure why. I should stop patting them, I suppose. Then they'll stop jumping on my legs, the little poops.

Edit: Link, for what it's worth. Might save you from having a dog.

http://dog-shaming.com/