December is a hard month for Riggins.  He tends to be a very emotional dog anyway so anything that causes his routine to change adds to his anxiety.  December is a month of activities and holiday parties which means I’m spending less time at home/doing Riggins related things.  This alone doesn’t make him happy but to add insult to injury my outings often put me next to other animals and THAT is the final straw!

It’s the worse when I’m hanging out with his poodle friend Morgan without him, which has happened twice lately.  I come home, open Riggins’ gate and he goes sniffer crazy!  Sniff, aggravated look at me, sniff, sniff, sniff, complexed look, sniff, sniff, a look as if to say, “are you f***ing kidding me?  You saw Morgan without me?  What is wrong with you?  seriously lady I’ve been outside ALONE this entire time and you are off having fun with my friend.  COME ON!,” sniff, sniff, sniff.

My company Holiday party had me at a house with not one but two dogs.  Upon returning I got a sniff, sniff, sniff, “what the H E Double Hockey Sticks is going on now?  Two dogs????”  Sniff, sniff “listen here lady.  Two dogs mean a dog park.  WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING AT A DOG PARK WITHOUT ME???”  Sniff, sniff, sniff, “Don’t try and bribe me with treats.  You are on my naughty list!”  Sniff … “Okay fine, give me the treats.”

Yesterday I came home smelling like a baby AND a cat.  OH THE HORROR.  Riggins response, sniff, “what the …” sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff, “it can’t be …” sniff sniff, “I thought I knew you!!!!!!!!”… sniff sniff.

AND AS IF THAT ISN’T ENOUGH … Riggins (along with his doggy and kitty cousins) have Christmas presents wrapped under the tree.  They are waaaaay down at the bottom of the pile as far away from a snout as possible but Riggins is a hunter with a keen sense of smell.  He knows they are there . Plus his grandma got all her grandchildren (including Riggins) a countdown to X-Mas garland that has mini-stockings, gloves, & hats with numbers hung on it.  Everyday is a new treat and one day closer to the big day!  BUT JUST ONE TREAT A DAY WHEN THERE ARE TONS MORE JUST HANGING ON THE MANTEL WAITING TO BE GOBBLED UP!   Poor Riggins spends his evenings pacing the 6 feet between the fireplace and the Christmas tree, wondering why he is living such a tortured life!

You know I heart NCIS.  It is the greatest show on TV.  I have to say that despite my love for them I was horrified at how the characters came to the conclusion that a victim/suspect was lying and most likely the killer in a recent episode.  (To be honest it may not have been a recent episode as I spent most of the TV summer hiatus watching re-runs.)  My boyfriend (aka Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo – but again to be honest all the male characters are my boyfriend.  Even Ducky.  Seriously.  I love them all.) concluded that a woman was lying since she said she slept alone when her bed was messed up on both sides (meaning no alibi).  It turns out she was indeed lying and was a mistress to some married man and didn’t want to get him in trouble — drama!  When Ziva (or some other logical woman character) suggested she didn’t make her bed everyday (again being fully honest here I don’t remember who said what exactly) he came back with the logical, “but you always sleep on the same side.”

Here is the zinger … I do sleep on both sides!  Not only am I a restless sleeper who can take out any number of blankets, pillows and a comforter within just a few hours I do sleep on both sides of the bed at one night and since I’m lazy, often don’t start with the bed being that put together in the first place.  Here is how my night goes:

I stand over the bed and analyze my strategy.  Then I grab, what may or may not be the corner of a sheet and comforter from the foot of the bed, or one side of the bed, or the floor.  I then toss it up haphazardly to give the illusion of a squared off blanket start to the night.  Then I crawl in on the side of my bed that has the nightlight since I almost always read before going to sleep.  During the reading time I’m wiggling and kicking and willing the covers to make it over my entire body.  This seems easier than just making the bed correctly from the beginning.  Then I set my book down, turn off the light, wiggle closer to the middle, and go to sleep.  At some point, as you know, Riggins decides he wants to come up and join me.  Since he is no dummy he doesn’t go around to the cold unused side.  Instead he stands by the side I’m mostly on and cries until I roll over to the cold unused side, lift up the blankets, pat the bed, and tell him to “up up up.”  (I sometimes have to stand up for him to get the gist and then immediately plop back down on my new side.)  Now I’ve got a few hours to mess up the other side of the bed!  I use my time wisely wrapping and then kicking off blankets and flipping around and around in a pattern that sometimes mirrors Riggins circle, circle, flop routine.

So you see Mr. Special Agent Hottie I DO SLEEP ON BOTH SIDES OF MY BED.  After a night of “sleep” I stand up and it looks like there was a crazy party in my bed the night before.  When in fact it was just me … Riggins and me!

Here is the thing.  I’m crazy independent.  There is very little Riggins and I can’t tackle on our own.  I rarely have a “female” meltdown because I don’t have a partner (aka boyfriend/husband) to help me through my day-to-day life.  In fact, I’m usually a very angry woman if you dare suggest otherwise.

I’m told, by my mom, I was mean to a guy at Home Depot recently when I asked him where the Draino was.  I needed some main line root cleaner but instead of being an arrogant ass and saying, “Where is your main line root cleaner?”  I said, “Where is your Draino.”  As I knew they would be sitting on the shelf side by side.  When the Home Depot rep shook his head in disgust and in his best “I’m talking down to a female voice,” said, “Why, little lady (I may have added that part for color), you don’t want to be using that horrible stuff now do you?”  I wanted to grab him and say, “listen here you male chauvinist pig head tell me what god damn isle the Draino is on.”  Instead I said, “I know.  You all hate Draino.  That isn’t what I’m buying I just want to know where it is.”  This most likely was done in an elevated theatrical voice and was accompanied by minor stomping in the direction the gentleman pointed.

Don’t even get me started on how much I hate the car dealer guys who work in the service department.  My only words to them seem to be “Oil and filter.  no.  no.  no.  Oil and filter.  Only.  Oil and filter … only.”  I like to bring Riggins along as, since I started going there, they have added a sign that says “no dogs” and seem very very afraid of him.  Gets me in and out of there with little hassle and in lightening speed.

I LOVE going to movies by myself.  LOVE hiking with just Riggins and me.  Have no problem hitting the Rose Bowl for a jog or run on my own.  Don’t mind traveling (took the Catalina Express alone this weekend) alone and have no problem eating at restaurants alone.  Find putting together furniture and electronics a challenge that I can handle without help.  I am smart enough to only purchase clothing I can zip up myself.  BUT once in a blue moon even I have an, IF I ONLY HAD SOMEONE TO HELP ME, meltdown.

I’m prepping for one of those now.  You see I’m having a social gathering on Sunday and I need to add a leaf to my dining room table to accommodate the party food/snacks.  No big deal.  No big deal if you have someone helping you.  Do you know how impossible it is to insert a leaf in a table on your own?  I M P O S S I B L E.  I’m gearing up for a throw yourself on he floor, sob uncontrollably, no one will ever love me, tantum Sat around 3ish.  I figure that is about the time it will all go down.  I’ll let you know how it goes!