Who forgets their Golden pup’s birthday?

Me. Me. Me.

The bad doggy mama.

Gracie Allen was four on March 23rd. That maybe, could’ve, might’ve, possibly was the day I had to get in the shower with all 80 pounds of her smelly — O.M.G. what is that thing crawling on your nose? — swamp dog body after she rolled in the toxic waste of the off leash park. You’re probably thinking I should supervise my Golden pup better than that. What kind of a doggy mama am I anyway? I think we already established that.

Let’s just be clear. Mr. G, honey took Gracie Allen to the off leash park for her run. And he crept back like Stealth Man and tried to let her in the side door and quietly slip away for a meeting. Ha! I, the bad doggy mama, was standing at the kitchen window, eating my Ambrosia apple and contemplating killing off a character, when they came through the gate on their tippy-toes. Busted!

Gracie Golden Pup was full of doggy joy. Mr. G, honey — not so much. After looking at my face, he ran like Roger Rabbit mouthing… Sorry. Meeting. But I saw his shoulders shaking. Yes, I did. And one day, I will exact my revenge.

It took 45 minutes to bathe Gracie Allen. I use the term bathe in the most casual way. It was nothing more than a transfer of swamp fug from dog to woman. Oh, and the tub… tiles… floor… walls. What’s a bath without the blissful shake to get the excess waterfall off?

An hour later, the Golden pup was all perky and sparkly and prancy and mostly dry. I was. I was. I was — Swamp Woman Walking.

The next half hour I spent in heavy texting with himself, who could not stop laughing. There are several revenges in his future.

That is why I might have been a bad doggy mama and forgotten the Golden pup’s birthday. Sorry.

Look at that innocent face. Gracie Allen is like, what? What?

Things Gracie Allen does not like ~

birds, squirrels, wind, waves, bees (she’s allergic)

Things Elen does not like ~

okra, cauliflower, running, swamp fug

Just thought you would want to know. In case.

Elen