I love you, but. . .

We all know it’s true: sometimes the ones we love most are the ones who annoy the holy crap out of us.

Case and point: my dog, Muffin the Wonder Poodle.

OK, I love my dog. I do realize she is a pet and not a person, but I love this dog. Her furry face. Her excitement when I come home. The way she wakes up every morning bounding out of bed and ready for adventure. The fact that when I’m sad, she knows and generally tries to comfort me.

But if you’ve read this blog long or met this dog, you know she’s CRAZY. Crazy, I tell you. She has a bad attitude that’s only overshadowed slightly by the badness of her breath. She’s stubborn. She’s selfish. She’s sometimes painfully annoying, especially if that red spherical object is involved. (Seriously, I think if I typed the word “ball” while she were in the room, she’d know. And she’d go find that stupid thing and bark at me insistently until I played with her and I don’t have time!)

Well, last night, Muffin was Annoying with a capital A. See, when she was just a baby, I let her sleep in the bed next to me because she wouldn’t stop crying. Now she thinks it’s her right. (The next dog I have will not sleep in the bed. Or eat table scraps. Yes, I said next. I’m a dog person. I can’t see myself not having one. Deal with it.) And last night, that 8-pound wonder poodle managed to take up way more than half of the bed, bored her four feet into my back no less than 400 times, and growled at me if my leg or any part of my body got too near to her. Yeah, she slept great, but I slept a little fitfully in the early morning hours.

So, Muffin, deal with it. It’s my bed, my house, and my stuff. You don’t work. You don’t pay for it. So, simmer down. Man up. Shake it off. Because I’m going to win this one.

At least I hope so.