Saturday, August 17, 2013

The Mysterious Case of the Disappearing Panty Liners

We drove to Illinois today.  Partly to play with (nearly) five-week old puppies, and partly to pick up a "client dog" that will be here for about a month for training and to be shown.  The puppies are half-siblings to Poison by way of dam, and the "client dog" actually belongs to friends of ours, and is Rocket's niece/Poison's half-sister (by way of sire.) Her name is Rayne.

Out of all the puppies, one really stood out.  Of course, it had to be a red male. I need another dog like I need a bad case of the measles, but holy cow... this boy is amazing.  I'd like to kidnap him just so I could show him.  Granted, he may change in the next three to five weeks and not be as breathtaking as he is now.  Part of me is hoping for that, only because I think another show dog would be a very bad idea.  I can already hear my bank account crying.

It didn't help that Aryn and I spent the car ride home thinking of names for the little guy.  Here's a photo.

On the way home, we stopped for fuel (and SmartWater) and saw some cleverly disguised new model and/or concept Chevrolet trucks.  I knew they were Chevys because the chevrons were all covered with black electrical tape.  They had psychedelic wrap jobs to make accurate photography difficult, as well as the classic black tarps used to hide the design.  From what little I could see, they were pretty neat trucks!

I had two grande Java Chip Frappuchinos in an eight-hour period.  Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

I bet you're all wondering about this entry's title.  I bet the suspense has been killing you.  Either that, or you've figured that I've gone off the deep end.  I shall now explain.

I got home, unloaded all the crates I'd been given, and gave Rayne a bath.  I offered her some beef, but she wasn't sure what to do with it.  I had better luck with the poultry organ mix... she actually ate that!  After she'd dried off from her bath, I decided to put her bitch-britches on since she's "blossoming" at the moment.  Eww.  

I go to find the panty liners her owners had given me for her britches.  The entire box had disappeared.  I retraced my steps.  Was the box in the foyer?  No.  Was the box in the living room?  No.  Was the box in the kitchen, or the dining room, or the hallway, or the bathroom, or the bedroom?  No, times five.  Had I left the box in the car?  Nope.  Had the box somehow walked under a desk or the dining room table?  Negative.  Had the cats dragged the box down into the basement?  Nope-a-roni!

I was at a loss.  How could a box of panty liners just up and walk away?  It didn't make sense. By that point, I'd spent about 20 minutes looking for those damn panty liners.  

I then noticed a single panty liner on the bedroom floor.  One. Goddamn. Panty liner. It was just sitting there, mocking me. Feeling like I'd made a tremendous breakthrough in the case of the missing panty liners, I decided to inspect the room more closely.  It was only then that I found where the box had disappeared to.  Somehow, the box of panty liners had wound up under the bed.  I can only assume one of the dogs carried it into the bedroom and somehow flung it under there.

Anyway, Rayne is now wearing her britches and appears to be very happy that I found her feminine hygiene products.  You're welcome, silly girl.

Tomorrow, we go lure coursing.  Kaylee doesn't know... I think I'll refrain from telling her where we're going, so she can be surprised with she sees the field and hears the swish-swish-swish of her plastic quarry rustling through the grass.  It's going to be a good day to be a Kaylee-dog.

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