I don’t have much on my mind this morning. About the only thing that is bugging me are the thoughts surrounding my desire to finish that damned fence.
Why do people have to find ways to interfere with other people’s lives? Yeah, sure, I guess that bitchy woman could say something similar in respect to me; it was my noisy, obnoxious dog that was bothering her–keeping her from being able to listen to her precious television. Nevermind the fact that we all live right beside a railroad, multiple other neighbors have loud dogs, and that the cattle in the neighboring field like to bellow at night. Seriously, though, I’m pretty sure it’s just a matter of her being one of those stupid “dogs are people, too” weirdos. Dogs are dogs. God put them on the planet with the notion that they would be able to fend for themselves, be able to survive harsh weather, and so on. It’s only our interference that creates the need to baby them–and to what extent depends upon the degree in which we interfere. The absolute minimum that we need to provide is food, water and shelter–and guess what–I was providing all three, and going just slightly above and beyond in comparison to others.
I gave the dog a 12’x12′ kennel space inside the barn, and a 10’x20′ space outside the barn. Ideal? Not necessarily, but twice as much as space as several give theirs–hell, twice as much space as many give two or three dogs! The outdoor space gave Sophie exposure to sun, fresh air, and grass under her paws; the barn gave her shelter from wind, rain and offered a slightly warmer environment when temps dropped–not to mention the bed of straw I laid on the floor. And it’s not like I constantly left the dog out there; for weeks I brought the dog inside the house–something I hate–when temps dipped below 32°F. My kitchen still stinks of dog.
Am I the greatest pet owner? No. Am I trying to argue that I am? Not really. Am I being responsible? Yes; but whether or not it’s to your liking is a you problem, not a me problem. So, respectfully, stay out of my fucking life.