No sleep ’till Brooklyn

Or past 8 AM anyways. The days of sleeping in are behind me now that the dogs have taken to a newly minted morning ritual, which they have worked long and hard to perfect, in order to precisely shave off yet another quality of life point for me.

The dogs are waking up earlier and earlier everyday and unfortunately, so am I.

I’m not sure how or exactly when this all started, but at some point, Mack & Peterbilt collaborated on creating a new way to be total pains in the ass. I can see it now: Mack and Pete sitting at the table with coffee and cigarettes, late at night. Mack washes a couple of aspirin down with another shot of Jim Beam and massages his temples. Peter licks his paws again. The frustration is high. “The latest report shows Treat Lady is happy, Peterbilt. We must find a way to break her spirit. You’re head of the Destroying Things Department, what have you destroyed his week?”

“A paiw of sneakuhs, suh. (Peter can’t say his r’s) But they tuwned out to be Dad’s.”

“God Dammit! I told you that you need to watch that! Dad’s shoes are big, Treat lady’s are small! Do you see what you’ve done?!? No wonder she’s in a good mood! She hasn’t had any thing destroyed of hers for over a week! As head of the Foul Smells department, I’m implementing an Emergency Treat Lady Crop Dusting for then next 6 hours while we trying to figure out a contingency plan. Please excuse me briefly while I commence my first airstrike.”

(A few minutes elasp. Peterbilt licks his crotch in Mack’s absence. Mack returns)

“Ok, we don’t’ have much time. Quickly now, what does Treat Lady love? List it off, GO!”

“Dead birds? Old socks? Sticks?”, says Peterbilt.

Mack face palms. “You, imbusile! Those are all things YOU like! Have you not been paying attention?!? Think! What does Treat Lady do often?”

Peterbilt is temporarily distracted by a crumb on the floor. He licks it up and thinks for a moment. “Well, she often comes home and dwinks wine while gwiping about huh job.”

“Good, but not good enough. She keeps her wine on the counters and I don’t exactly blame her for griping about her job. What else?”

“She likes to wead on her iPad, but Opuhwation Bitch at Mom was employed 2 yeaws ago and is still in force. I’ve bitched and whined at her evewy time she’s sat on the couch with that howwible IPad this week. She’s taken to weading in the bafwoom now”, says Peterbilt, beaming.

“Still good, but we need something more as the same old tricks aren’t doing it anymore,” says Mack.

Peterbilt burps and then realizes, “She loves to sleep! That’s it, Dad! Take away her sleep and she will be miserable again!”

“Yes!!!! That’s it! I knew you would be useful to me one day! We’ll go about it like this: You wake up at the first sign of daylight and start whining. The longer she ignores you, the louder and more obnoxious you get.”

“But what if Dad wakes up instead?,” questions Peterbilt.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. It hasn’t happened yet and I doubt it will now.” Mack excitedly lights a cigarette. “So whine until she wakes up. I’ll hear her letting you outside and feeding you and then I’ll chime in with my shrieks so she can forget going back to bed to get any more shut eye. She’ll have to feed and potty me in order to get me to shut up. Then, I’ll run in the bedroom and jump in her spot on the bed so she has no room to lay back down. This will surely make her miserable. Plus, now we will get breakfast earlier. Bonus!”

“You so smawt. Dis plan is gweat.” Peter wags his nub in evil glee.

Both dogs cackle, “Buh haha hah ha! Buh hah hah hah!”

I’m so glad I’m leaving for vacation today.

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