I love these fuckers more than I like most people, but I was not looking forward to taking them with us down to the beach (a different beach) to stay with Miss Carol’s family last weekend. It had nothing to do with Miss Carol’s family and everything to do with the fact that we’d be staying in a “pet friendly” oceanfront cottage.
The last time we had Cutter and Tug in a “pet friendly” motel we’d awoken in the middle of the night to Tug peeing on us.
Here’s what happened-
A couple of years ago, Miss Carol decided we needed to take the dogs to Hatteras and go camping so I loaded up everything, stuffed Cutter and Tug into the back seat, and we headed to Hatteras. About fifteen minutes into the three hour trip our retards decided they’d had enough car travel. Both were squirming and wrestling all over the back seat, snarling and growling and barking at each other, at passing cars, and at Miss Carol and me.
I was trying to drive and scream at them to shut the fuck up and Miss Carol was trying to soothe all of us into enjoying the ride. Before we even crossed into North Carolina I’d had enough and wanted to turn around and go home.
But Miss Carol persisted (’cause she’s patient like that) and we made it all the way to Manteo (about halfway to Hatteras) before she too had had all she could take of the three of us and threw in the towel- (I always like it when Miss Carol finally gets mad- it makes my childishness feel somehow justified.)
I was looking for a place to turn around when she saw a motel along the highway with a big PETS WELCOME sign- so we decided we’d bag Hatteras and camping and just check into the PETS WELCOME motel instead. I sat in the hot car while Miss Carol checked us in, bouncing around as Cutter and Tug attacked one another, and then we went to a nearby beach.
And it was fun. The dogs got to get out of car prison and run in the surf and we got to chill out over beers and cocktails.
Later on, we went back to the motel and as soon as we got into the room the dogs immediately found a scent that needing marking. I dropped what I was carrying and started yelling at them while Miss Carol grabbed some paper towels.
That’s when we made the connection that PETS WELCOME means other dogs have BEEN HERE. AND PEED HERE.
But it was too late to leave so we got it cleaned up and I turned on the TV and cracked a beer. Miss Carol took the car keys and left, saying she was going shopping for dinner.
I think she just wanted, or maybe needed, to get away from Cutter, Tug, and me.
During the two hours she was gone the dogs found a couple of other places that needed marking and decided that being cooped up in a motel room wasn’t much better than car prison and started attacking one another AGAIN, so I walked them for a couple of miles hoping to wear them down. It didn’t.
Finally Miss Carol came back with a pizza and the dogs seemed to settle down so after dinner we laid down on the bed to watch TV and promptly fell asleep.
A couple of hours later I awoke with a start, realized that the lights and TV were still on, and that Tug was standing over us, staring intently at me, and PEEING on us.
I can’t even fathom what might have going through his little doggy brain to make him do such a thing, but honestly?, it made me laugh- he was just so seriously bent on making a point to me about something or other. Trust me, the look on his face was effing FUNNY.
But I pushed him off, we got cleaned up, slept on the floor for a couple of hours, and left for home before dawn, sneaking out of the PETS WELCOME motel and the mess we had made.
So, yeah, I was a LITTLE concerned about spending the weekend in a “pet friendly” cottage with Miss Carol’s family, but I needn’t have worried. They were fine. Maybe the cleaners clean better or maybe Tug and Cutter are better behaved or something, but they were fine.
Which is good ’cause I’m not sure anyone in Miss Carol’s family would find getting peed on very funny.
Turds.
oceandoggy.com 