Yes, drunk-walking…what? Oh, like you’ve never done that. Stop looking at me like that. It happened to be a lovely summer evening with little breeze and the moon out in full glorious glow. I had a few glasses of wine on my front porch and with Hubby inside watching some soccer match or something that kills all my brain cells just thinking about it, I thought taking Magalicious for a walk before her bed time would be a totally fantastical idea. Yeah.
I learned a few things during this walk. First, I can’t walk straight if I’m drunk.
Second, everything is fucking hilarious. Maggie was walking happily along, or pulling along, and I thought “Oh My Gawd that’s so funny!” The neighbours probs was about to dial 911 when seeing me laughing hysterically at nothing while stumbling behind a 10 pound puppy at 11 o’clock at night.
Third, I was expecting Freddy Krueger to pounce out at me at any given time, so I was ready with my vicious dog all decked out in her bad ass polka-dotted bow.
Yeah. We be bad, yo. I was ready to sick her on his ass as soon as he darted out from the neighbours’ bushes or darkened garage. In my mind, he had a pirate’s accent and would be all “Arrgh, matey’s. What ye be up to this fine evening?” and then show us his Kruger-like fingers with the stabby knives and shit. Maggie would bark and scare him away and we would return home all happy that Freddy got scared of a little girly puppy with a red polka-dotted bow. Awwwww…..
And THIS is why I should not drunk-walk my dog….