Control Freak

I am so ticked off! The Spokeswoman has just gone TOO far this time. I swear, she is the most controlling, BOSSY, domineering, aggravating person I have EVER had the misfortune of knowing.

I should have known it would be this way when I hooked up with the Ninjas. She had all three of them COLOR CODED. It started out innocently enough with drinking glasses. The intolerant Spokeswoman got all bent out of shape over the fact that the three Ninjas dirtied an average of fifteen drinking glasses each day. My Ninjas ARE health conscious, after all! They believe in drinking plenty of fluids, especially in the summer-time. They know full well that you should NEVER drink after another Ninja...so, it is only reasonable to assume the three of them would need about 15 glasses a day to drink from. I mean, all the glasses look alike. Once you set your glass down on the counter and leave and other Ninjas do the same, there is no telling which glass is whose the next time you need a drink of water. But the hateful old Spokeswoman is so stingy that she can’t even wash fifteen measly glasses each day. Talk about LA.ZY! Before anyone saw it coming, she ran out and bought a set of five glasses that were five different colors. Well, the Spokesguy took clear (YES...she even color-coded HIM!), she took yellow, oldest Ninja took blue, medium-sized Ninja took green, and littlest Ninja took red. And they have all been stuck with those colors ever since...YEARS before I wandered into the mess.

Poor little Ninjas. For YEARS they have only been allowed to drink out of one, single drinking glass…meal after meal, snack after snack, year after year. They have to wash their own glass between dishwasher loads and heaven help them if they forget and leave their glass lying about on the table or in the living room. Old eagle eye can tell from a football field away who the offender is, because the color of the glass is a dead give away!

And if it weren’t bad enough that the Ninjas are allowed absolutely not one iota of creativity when it comes to drinking, the control freak Spokeswoman took it a step further and started color coding all sorts of other things. The blue Ninja has a blue clip on the refrigerator for important notes, homework, etc…and a blue bath puff to scrub with at night…and a blue sportsbottle to take to track and soccer practice…and a blue--well, you get the idea! Then we have the green Ninja and the Red/Pink Ninja. Sad. Poor little Ninjas.

Myself, the crazed Border Collie, and the delusional Newfie have thus far escaped the humiliation of color coding. But, it seems, I, myself, have fallen prey to something far more sinister. My captivity began March 12, 2009. I never saw it coming. March 8th I was happily cavorting through the waves in our lake with my guy pal, Dexter. Those were the happy days. Dexter and I racing free as the wind across the deserted beach...dashing side by side until our Spokespeople were indistinct dots on the horizon...just the two of us without a care in the world...no psycho Border Collie, no delusional Newfoundland...just another fine German Shepherd like myself! It was a glorious day! The sun glimmered off the water. The sky was a translucent, calm, crystalline blue. The sand felt soft beneath our paws. No leashes. No annoying sound of Spokespeople demanding this or that. Just FREEDOM. Pure, delicious, intoxicating freedom. Oh how we ran and swam and swam and ran. I leaped like a gazelle skimming across the beach. I shot up out of the water like a dolphin. I went out way over my head and joyfully bit at the water’s surface as I swam with such ease and grace. Life was as it is MEANT to be. Then, without warning, my entire life came crashing down on me March 12, 2009.

That was the day that my Spokesperson looked at me in surprise and said, “Oh my. You’ve come into season, Ransom.” And with those elusive words my life ended. Gone are my long daily walks. Gone are my glorious outings with my best guy buddy, Dexter. Gone, even, it now appears, are my frequent forays into the inner sanctum of the Spokeswoman’s house. I am STUCK. Stuck in the backyard with that maniacal, crazed, conniving, bossy, little Border Collie and that delusional, lethargic, lazy Newfoundland. STUCK. Mind you, the backyard is surrounded by a HUGE eight foot tall privacy fence. Even when I jump my highest, I can’t catch so much as a fleeting glimpse of what lies beyond. ISOLATION…complete, total, profound solitary confinement...with two lunatic dogs. It is unbearable. The nights are the worst. Last night, some friendly fellow was on the other side of the isolating privacy fence, so I happily barked a greeting to him…and the next thing I know, the Spokeswoman thrusts her head out the back door and snarls, “Get in your house. Be quiet.” I don’t know what would happen if I didn’t dive into my doghouse instantly. I often wonder, but, haven’t yet had the nerve to force the answer to my question. When I got here, the first thing I noticed was that when the Spokeswoman thrusts her angry muzzle out the door and growls in that low, quietly menacing voice, “Get in your house!” EVERYBODY dives into their house like the wrath of God is about to descend upon them…and NOBODY makes another peep the rest of the night. I don’t know what would happen if I were ever struck by lightning, but, when I feel electricity in the air, I duck for cover. That’s kind of the feeling I get about this Spokeswoman of ours. I’m not exactly sure what would happen if I DIDN’T do what she says, but I don’t think I want to find out.

So, not only am I stuck, stuck, STUCK…trapped within the suffocating confines of the privacy fence, but, she isn’t even allowing me to TALK to friends on the other side of my prison fence. Maybe THIS is what drove the Border Collie and the Newfoundland over the edge of mental stability. I asked them about it. They both claim they have never had those words “I see you are in season, now”, thrown at them. Oddly enough, too, they both identified with Gabby’s ordeal back when she had her close shave with death. I don’t see how the two could be related, and yet, my razor sharp mind senses there is a connection there...scattered pieces of the same puzzle.

The only good news is that there apparently will eventually be an end to this undeserved torment the Spokeswoman so abruptly thrust upon me. She told me my sentence will be up April 2nd. Which is a relief, since my sister, Gabby, and I have plans to meet down at Eagle Rock for a weekend of camping beginning April 3rd. Talk about making it in under the wire!





(I thought I would close this post with a photo taken early last January...the day that Dexter and I met for the first time. I wish I had a picture from last weekend. We look so much different together these days. We have both grown (we were just seven months old in this picture), but, more than that, we are both just so COMFORTABLE in each other's presence now. We glow when we are together! The picture above doesn't show that, because we just didn't have that glow together yet. Ahhh....just thinking about Dexter makes me warm and happy.... I miss him. Isn't he a HANDSOME fellow? I think he is about the most handsome German Shepherd I have ever seen. It's going to a very long sentence, alone, here in this dreary back yard of mine, just when I would MOST like to be with that tall, strong, handsome young German Shepherd. ...sigh.)