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| Pathetic Bob Goes to Detox | |
| By Emmuttmax | ||||||||||||||||||
| 17 June 2008 | ||||||||||||||||||
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Bob's addiction problem comes to light.
Pathetic Bob’s Goes to Detox
Last night Pathetic Bob provoked my wrath. I’m not usually a wrath kind of guy, but last night’s incident—the second one in less than a week—caused me such distress that I actually yelled at Bob and physically removed him from the house and banished him to the backyard for a timeout. It also awakened me to the realization that all is not well with Bob’s psyche. So, this morning, when cooler heads prevailed, I asked Bob to come into my office for a man-to-dog chat. “Bob,” I began, “I’m very concerned about you. First of all, the other day you went all pit bull on Sophie and inflicted a gash on her nose, and then last night, you attacked the old dog, Max. We obviously have an anger management problem here. Do you want to explain yourself?” “Not really,” he said, his head hanging low. “Well Bob, I’m afraid I have to insist that you do. You know that violence is unacceptable here except if we are attacked by inebriated bears, ninja rodents, or a visit by my nephew, Brian. Oh, and Cat gets a pass on her lizard jihad. So, I ask you again, what’s up with this sudden inappropriate behavior?” “Look Mike, I sorry, Ok. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Now, can we just drop it?” “No Bob, we can’t. These recent acting-out episodes trouble me. I believe there are issues you are not confronting, feelings you are not sharing. We need to get at the root of the problem Bob.” “Oh hell, you’ve been to your psychiatrist recently, haven’t you? I can always tell when you’ve had an appointment; you start spouting all this touchy-feely crap. You’re going to stay on my ass until I tell you, aren’t you?” “Yes I am, so you might as well get on with it. I think you will feel much better if you do.” “No I won’t.” I was getting frustrated. “Well do it anyway, dammit!” “Fine, fine, whatever. I really didn’t mean to hurt the puppy; I’m not a child abuser or anything. It’s just that…I got a problem with rawhide, and it’s all your fault.” “Rawhide? What the hell are you talking about, and, how is it my fault?” “I’m addicted to rawhide! There, are you happy now? I’m hooked. I can’t get enough. I was licking, snorting, and shooting up the hide the other night when Sophie came over to see what I had. I snapped. I thought she was trying to get my stash. I reacted without thinking, and the kid suffered. I feel real bad about it, but what can I do? Then, last night, I left a piece of unfinished hide on the dog bed, and Max came sniffing around it. You know him, he’d eat the stink off a muskrat, so as soon as I saw what was going on, I had to act. I didn’t bite him, I just held him down and spit in his ear.” “Jesus Bob, you need help.” “Yeah, well if you hadn’t gotten me hooked when I was younger, we wouldn’t be having a problem now, would we?” “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Judy and Max have been chewing the hides for years and they don’t have a problem. This is serious Bob; you are cut off, no more rawhides; you’re going cold turkey.” “That’s not fair, I can’t handle detox. Can’t I just taper off?” “No way, and don’t even think about my leather slippers. This is for the best Bob, and don’t worry, I’ll be with you every step of the way.” “Damn, I was afraid of that.” (c) 2008
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...i laughed out loud reading this...do you want to explain yourself?...Not really....
...loved it...
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