Dear Olive and Archer: AKA-Numbers 1 & 2 On My Shit LIst
I think I still faintly smell like a sewer and I am NOT happy about it. I understand that dogs like to roam. I even understand how our 1.3 acre property could probably get pretty boring after a while. But you know what I don't understand? What the hell could compel you guys to want to smell like a cross between one of Everly's shitty diapers and a musty basement?
We got the electric pet fence to keep you guys in, not so you could roam the neighborhood all nimbly bimbly, forcing me to hop in the car to track your asses down. Oh, and Archer? I should not have to lure you to the car using gum, okay? It makes me feel all creepy man with a mustache and a white windowless van. No thanks. Olive, you listened and got in the car, so that's good. But for all I know, you initiated the jail break. Not cool.
Bottom line dogs? I literally had to take TWO showers and then exfoliate the crap out of my arms just to not smell like month old Indian food rotting in the Florida sun. Please don't escape the yard again. If you do, I'm tempted to let you live in the sewers forever, C.H.U.D style.
Until Next Time,