I went down to the basement this morning to do a load of laundry, only to find my clothes fresh, clean and neatly folded in a basket near the dryer. Confused, I looked up to see my pet monkey, Chip Dip.
The monkey had done the load for me.
I was excited about not having to do the laundry, that is, until I pulled my good pair of black dress pants out of the basket. They were covered in white spots.
“CHIP DIP!!!!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “YOU ADDED TOO MUCH BLEACH TO THE LOAD!!!!!”
I chased Chip Dip around the house for 45 minutes until he finally managed to escape through the front door.
I spent the next several hours scouring my neighborhood for the monkey, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, I had to return home and get ready for work.
I got dressed and as I opened the door to leave, there was Chip Dip, standing there with his arms outstretched.
“I can’t stay mad at you,” I said and gave him a big hug. That’s when I looked down and noticed grease all over my good white dress shirt. The monkey had been rolling around in oil all day.
“CHIP DIP!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Wondering if pet ownership is right for me.
Dear “Wondering”,
Although painful and left with the feeling that sometimes being a pet owner is a lot like supporting the needs of a retarded child, maybe the problem ISN’T you.
I don’t mean to imply that you should “take him out back” and “put an end to this madness”, but maybe an additional pet would be therapeutic for both you and ChipDip.
For instance:
After work, head down to your local “pet rescue” and outfit yourself with a cheap canine of medium proportion. Before bringing home the dog, stop at a store that sells horse tack and have the new family member “fitted” for a saddle, blanket and bridal. You might want to spend a few more minutes (and a few more dollars) locating a miniature cowboy hat and some assless chaps, to really round-out this exercise of what should be a “pet-on-pet” discovery.
You can probably see where the rest of this is going.
Don’t be surprised if, after a few weeks, the random tufts of dog fur start to dwindle, this just means ChipDip will be preoccupied with his newly-broken and trusty steed.
The downside?
You’ll have to do your own laundry.
hmm monkey cowboy rodeo. I think I’ll try this. I’ll let you know how it turns out. Thanks for the suggestion.