When the love is gone...

"When the love is gone,

there is nothing you can do but feel the pain. 

If only I could feel the freedom that I've gained 

I could be happier and start again."

If you don't know who sang this then shame on you. She is a wonderful performer. Her name is that of like Prince or Rhianna, singular, a one name type. The lyrical wordsmith who put this together was talking about the fact that sometimes love runs out and what to do after this happens. Never in my life have words rang more true than they do today.

Although she did not write this beautiful ensemble, Cher sings these prophetic words in the first verse of a song called "When The Love Is Gone." As I type these words I am feeling that the love is definitely almost gone. I am feeling that if I lay my eyes upon one of the habitants that reside in my house I am liable to throw her out into the darkness that rests in the ruthless streets of Matthews, North Carolina. 

It is the summer. The time to sleep late. The days that I get to wake up and eat when I want to eat, shit when I want to shit and listen to music when I want to listen to music. I am not on a schedule other than I eventually will get up and do something. Whatever the day brings, I will get to it when I want to get to it. 

10 months out of the year I'm as regimented as they come. I must get that from the time I spent killing Somali's or Iraqi's for the United States Government. For 4 years it was wake up, exercise, shoot some one and then we would party on through the night. That's basically how my life is run now. Everyday I wake up, eat an egg white omelet in my car with my bare hands on the way to work, listen to music and surf the net from 8:00-9:30, substitute shooting the enemy for teasing kids til 3:30 then party the night away until I do it all again tomorrow. 

One could expect that a break is needed from that rigorous schedule I keep. Well that break is now, and I am trying to enjoy it. I was enjoying it up until this morning when I woke up to many a different mess scattered throughout the house. 

The culprit has been at it now for quite some time and I am wondering why she keeps doing it? When is she going to stop? Is it because she doesn't receive enough attention or praise or something else? It pisses me off because she is old enough to know what is acceptable and what is not acceptable. I am tired of waking up to her mess. Hey, guess what dick head...I don't like to clean that up! I don't know, call me crazy but cleaning up your shit is not cool!

I'm sick of this f**king dog! Yes, I've said it. Today I wake up to a mess in the bathroom. For some reason this asshole likes, no LOVES, to rip up tissue paper. It's all over the bathroom floor. This is the first thing I see. I clean it up and wash my hands. I go downstairs now for breakfast and I see an entire pack of gum eaten. Yes, a 20 piece pack of Trident gum devoured in one sitting.  I am sure, soon enough, I will have to clean the puke that will definitely follow that meal. Oh, maybe not considering I just found a pile of shit. Well, at least I know she digested it and I can now tell my kids and the idiots at school that the old wives tale of gum staying in your digestive system for extended periods of time is way FALSE! Don't ask how I know it's the gum.

In the past our beautiful Christmas present that Santa left us that one year has eaten basically everything in site. The list grows everyday. It started that she ate deodorant. After a series of convulsions, violent shakes and a $1000 stomach pump later she is fine. Next up, she ate something that made her narrow head swell to the size of a giant football. To this day I don't know what the f**k she ate that made her head swell up like that, but she never ate it again and her head went back to normal after the vet gave her a Benadryl. A bottle containing 45 pills of 600 mg of Ibuprofen was next. She ate 44. That last one she couldn't get down. The second cone of shame, a stay in the hospital with another stomach pump and a bill of about $1200 was what made her healthy as a horse. For desert some Dove Dark Chocolate washed down with a bag of Twizzlers will have to do. A mess of epic proportions ensued shortly after, prompting my oldest daughter to inquire "Nala, why'd you have to go and shit all over the floor?"

Have I mentioned the whining? I never had a dog that lays around all day and whines or sighs like an old man. This dog gets love from us and all the kids in the neighborhood. She does not go without attention. What the hell is her deal? I am typing and she is sitting at my feet looking at me with these huge brown eyes of sorrow as to say "I 'm sorry man, I see these things and...I just want to eat em. I can't help it. I'm too impulsive. Come on I'm a dog for f**k's sake!" 

I know Nala, I love you too! Cher was wrong, the love is not gone