Hello my droogies. I hope you’re all thawed out. We saw a lot of snow here in East Tennessee – more than we usually see. Yours truly had his irrigation system freeze partially and ended up hauling six buckets of water up a hill to an otherwise-frozen trough.
And, of course, we reached the end of February, and the latest Sugar Baby decided that she wanted to try her luck again.
Her first attempt, about five days ago, was a text where ‘she didn’t know who else to call,’ because her sister is getting rid of her St Bernard, and she wanted me to take it.
Let’s add up what’s wrong with THAT statement:
1. We’ve already made the point that I’m not here to rescue her family
2. The dog is a well-known nightmare that they never bothered to train
3. These are the kind of people who give up on their own dog
4. If I take this dog then, anytime she can’t get a hold of me, she has an open invitation to come make sure the dog is ok
That’s right off of the top of my head. Yes, I do rescue dogs, and horses, and cats. No, I’m not looking for more.
And in what world is this a good idea (other than getting herself the permanent invite)? I was busy on the day that I received it, so I just ignored it.
So she sent me a picture of herself from the knees up, wearing a red nightie, where I could see her cooch, one tit and the top of her head.
OK, let’s leave off that this is totally classless. Unless she added about a foot to her arm length, how did she manage to take this? While I’m sure it’s possible, it’s more likely she had someone else do it, and if not it’s just pathetic.
So again, no answer.
Finally, here comes the end of February, and then the first day of March. I’m running around like crazy because there’s a MAJOR hay shortage in East Tennessee, and the snowfall made it worse both by increasing how much hay the horses need, and extending the time until the grass will grow in on the pastures to feed the beasts. What happens on both days? She calls. I guess she hadn’t been ignored enough, now I get to send her calls to voice mail.
Even if I wanted to get back with her, this stalker behavior would stop me. It’s not like I’m John Holmes from the waist down or keep winning Lotto. It all stands as a lesson to all women out there:
While men like to be pursued (and we do), we do NOT like to be chased and run down. That’s for antelope, and they don’t like it, either.
So, my droogies, that’s officially it for the new girl. I full on expect her to ‘stop by to make sure everything is ok,’ at which point she isn’t getting past the front porch.
It’s a shame, too, because I really felt a connection with her. Of course, that should have been a warning in and of itself.
As I said before, really starting to appreciate the finer points of my relationship with my dog
Yours, as ever,