I hate Lula.

But I like that I grew up in a house where if you didn’t have a perfect thing to do the job you needed it to do, you just put 6 or 7 imperfect things together and weighed them down with something else that maybe wasn’t supposed to be a weight and voila, you have the thing you orginally needed, or somekind of pile of something that looks bad, but is serving its purpose.

Lula, in the middle of the night, keeps leaping off the deck to the small awkward alley between our house and our neighbor’s fence in pursuit of some creature of unknown origin.  Cat?  Racoon?  Too fast for a possum?  Does this thing even really exist, or is Lula just fucking with me?  Then, because she is a shithead, she can’t get back onto the deck and back inside through her dog door.  Why don’t we just keep her in at night?  Because she has developed nighttime incontinence… and I don’t know.  I’m a moron?

So we created a barrier using a folding chair, a ladder, a wicker table, a tool box and another folding chair.  It looks… well you don’t have to really look at it, because there are no windows in that area.  Also, it didn’t work.  So we added another tool box and a folding table.  And last night I still got up with her three times because I was sure I smelled a skunk and that she was going to run out there, the skunk was also going to be trapped on our side of the ghetto gate and we would all die.  So, yeah.  I’m tired.  I cried three times at work today.

I really hate that dog.  Almost as much as I hate myself.