Okay, Adrienne. You asked for it...

(Damnit! My computer died and I lost my post. Now I have to remember what the heck I was writing. Feh)
Once a month all the j librarians in my library system meet for "discussion". I try to keep up, but mostly I like to listen to them spout their beautiful and maniacal mouth music. Today, I was lucky enough to sit near the uber-librarian, Adrienne, who has a blog of her own. I think that at once point, I decided that I would much rather live vicariously through her blog than write in my own, disappointing blog (and in turn, life.) Anywho, it turns out that sometimes she looks at my blog. Needless to say, she was a little disappointed in me because I hadn't posted anything since coming back from California. I did try though! Last night I stared at my computer, asking it what there was that I could write about my trivial and boring life... Obviously, by the lack of a post last night, my computer was little help. I've recently been physically sick and thinking that compared to all those poor souls in New Orleans, I've got nothing to complain about. I'd actually been meaning to muse about my personal feelings towards New Orleans, but I haven't decided how to put my thoughts together. (Don't worry Adrienne, there will be a post!) I'd also thought that maybe I'd write about how I wanted to buy a Play Station, two dance pads and Dance Dance Revolution for the library.

All those thoughts went out the window, when I came home and smelled poop (so strong that I could smell it immediately, even though I've got a cold and can't smell a damned thing).

We put our dog Buster in his crate when we aren't at home, because if we don't, he has a tendency to eat books, Jack's clothes and toys, video tapes and DVDs, or anything else he can get his lips around. At first we tried to let him stay out on his own, because we thought it might be a little cruel, but our greyhound group explained to us that they spend quite a bit of time in their crates, and feel safest in their crate. Please try telling that to Buster. He hides upstairs when we try and get him to go in his crate. He howls when we are coming home. He is not a happy dog, one way or another.
This is where the poop comes in, he has no qualms about pooping and peeing in his crate. This is a weird thing because it would be like you pooping (on purpose!) in your bed. So tonight, we came home and he had pooped and peed in his crate, then sat in it and got the poop nice and deep into his back paws. I really don't know anymore.
After all this, plus having Jack who is only about 6 months old, plus a cat that likes to vomit everywhere, plus having a job that causes me to run about like a chicken with its head cut off quite a bit, I don't know if I can handle the whole dog thing. I really don't know if Jeff and I have a life that supports a dog, especially such a high-maintenance drama queen kind of dog such as we have. I'm really at the point where I think we need to give him up back to the group, where he can go to a family that deserves him more. Unfortunately, part of me is really concerned with what other people think of us. I know it seems pretty shallow, but I don't want people to think that I'm shit. But then, I really want him to be somewhere he would be happy. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO FREAKING DO! We've already agreed that we are never ever getting another dog, but other than that... I'm sad. Now he cringes and whines when we try and pet him, plus he puts his tail between his legs ALL THE TIME (like now).
OKAY explain this to me. He poops in his crate when we aren't home. This says to me that he DOESN'T like his crate. Then, when we're home, he keeps going into his crate. This says to me that he DOES like his crate. ARGH! What the hell!
Cats, I understand. They come to you when they want to be petted or want food. They piss in front of the litter box when they want the litterbox cleaned. Thats about it. Dogs, I don't understand. I think that they might be too complex for me.
Okay, Adrienne. You wanted me to post in my blog. PLEASE HELP ME! I promise that my next post will be happier... or at least more entertaining.