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Please join me in my sexy, crazy, rational, irrational, and colorful paranormal life! To follow me, click on the follow button to the right and proceed as directed. I'm also on Twitter. You can find me @BeingBrice. For any questions for me or to contact any of the guest bloggers please email me at beingbrice@gmail.com

Monday, March 15, 2010

My Monday with Moe.

Before I continue with you all on my journey in the paranormal, I want to introduce you to a very special character that will continue to make returning appearances in and out of "Being Brice," my sister's dog Moe. Moe is a black lab puppy, and although he lives with my sister in Auburn, Alabama, he does come to visit his "Aunt Brice" on occasion. Moe is nothing short of a miracle, and it's nothing short of a miracle that I survive him each and every time he comes to stay.

My father is a veterinarian, and because of this, growing up we were never short on pets. With dogs, my dad always bought the finest of the breeds, and he trained them to be obedient to their human masters. Since we, like most American kids, grew up in a house, in a neighborhood, with a yard, our dogs were... well... dogs. They got to run around freely, only returning home on command, and were not allowed inside since my mother, being loyal to her "southern" heritage, was (and still is) house proud. They had their beds, their food, and their water nestled nicely in the garage, and ONLY were allowed in the house (and by house I mean the kitchen) if the weather was dangerous.

Years have passed now, and life has changed. My parents are now divorced, and my sister and I have left home. Living in LA for me meant that I never felt I had the time or the place to have a pet. Living in Alabama for my sister meant that she has fields full of space for a little puppy to run and play. Since leaving LA and relocating back to Atlanta, my sister has taken full advantage of being so close to me, and always finds a time to drop my "nephew" off. In order to get Moe to stay in the apartment, she has to drop him off by shoving his butt through the door, saying a quick bye, and high tailing it back out again. This past Friday was the same story, and what was suppose to be a simple over night stay for Moe with my mom and step dad ended up with him staying five extra days with me. Although I love Moe with all my heart, it is hard to have him here with me... in Atlanta... in an apartment...

...And so Monday March 15, 2010, went down as follows...

At ten to seven in the morning Moe jumped on my bed ready to go... and by that I mean to go outside to the bathroom. Normally that's not too early for me, but on this particular Monday, after being up at till all hours of the night, it was a brutally early hour. Since I am in an apartment, in a city, as most of you probably are, there are particular rules that have to be followed, one of them being your dog has to be on a leash and another one being you have to pick your dog's poo up. Now, Moe is a lab, and a strong little lab at that... and I don't care what "Ceaser" says, when a damn lab wants to walk you, he'll walk you, and with Moe... he runs you. So, after putting a jacket on over my PJs to face the early morning air, I clipped the leash on Moe and the two of us went out. As soon as Moe went flying down the stairs, I knew this day was going to be a long, brutal, all consuming Moe-ish day from Hell.

As soon as we got down to the main street, and slowed down to a minor "trot," I saw Moe's nose hit the ground to smell for his place to take his morning poo. Even though it is a rule where I live to bag the poo, if no one is around and Moe finds a nice little discreet place in the bushes, I normally will a) slyly walk away with that poo-wasn't-left-by-my-dog type walk or b) kick leaves over it so hopefully no one will notice and Moe and I can go about our day without me having to put my hand near his poo. But on this particular Monday morning, Moe decided that at 7 AM he was going to plop right down in the middle of my building's freshly manicured lawn and take a huge dump right by all the little children leaving to go to school and the adults leaving to go to work. Not only did he decided to take a dump right in the open for the world to see, but he decided once his ass was close to the grown, that he was going to shuffle around and spread the love of poo all over the lawn. After the poo was "handled" by me, Moe decided to give an encore performance. Since Moe is a lab, and labs are notorious for being super friendly, Moe tends to get excited when he sees people, and in his "joy" over being amongst all the people (who, of course, found him adorable), he jumped up on a lady neighbor, and peed all over her in her work clothes. To my amazement, she was ok with it and while she ran back in to change, I bolted with Moe back into the apartment in total embarrassment, but not before making sure everyone watching knew he was my sister's dog and not my own.

After we got back in and Moe was fed, I got my laptop out to start some new drafts for my other outlets of "Being Brice." Well, Moe did not like this. At first, he did not like the attention that I was giving my laptop over him and tried to knock if off my lap, and then he changed his mind. Instead of being jealous of the laptop, he decided he was going to try to eat the laptop just as he had eaten a pencil, a wii remote, and countless shoes in our together times in the past. As his teeth wrapped around my keyboard I jumped up in horror knocking Moe off the sofa, and in his mind starting a new game. I bolted back to my bedroom shut the door on Moe and put my laptop high up in my closet so Moe could not get to it. As I opened the door back up, there sat Moe, with his head tilted sideways... looking up to me with those cute puppy eyes. I could not be too mad for too long.

As the day progressed, so did Moe's "active" personality, and as it grew, the barking began, that loud, lab bark that's meant for a farm, not an apartment. In my haste to calm him, I jump up, grabbed his bone, and tried to get him to run a couple of laps around the apartment. When nothing worked, and the barking continued, I decided to turn the music on and up in an attempt to drown out Moe's bark from the whole apartment building. Green Day did not work. Oasis did not work. The Beatles did not work, but when Lady GaGa came on, Moe shut up. He got very quiet, and then, started jumping around in a dance-like trance. Yes, my sister's black lab liked... no loved... Lady GaGa. I listened to "Bad Romance" so many times on this Monday, that next time I go to karaoke, I think I'm going to rock it. (And Yes... I am aware that Moe might be gay due to his infatuation with Lady GaGa).

After dancing his ass off, Moe passed out for all five minutes before he, once again, had to go back out. As we went out this time, it became apparent that Moe actually does know how to take his leash off. As a bird, flying low to the ground, came swooping by Moe, he cocked his head sideways, ripped off his leash, and galloped down the street after the bird. Of course this means that I (still in my PJs and no bra on) had to go galloping down the streets of Atlanta after Moe. For every loud bark Moe made towards that damn bird, I made and even louder, desperate bark-like scream at Moe to STOP! Moe, realizing that he had left me behind, finally returned to me... his head tilted sideways... again looking up at me with those cute puppy eyes... I grabbed him by the collar and we marched back into the apartment with my head tilted low in hopes that no one I know would notice me out in public, running down the streets of Atlanta, in the attire that I was in.

On our way back to the apartment from our bird run, Moe found a stick. I let him carry his stick back to the door. Once we got there, I tried to take the stick away from him, and he growled at me. In my exhaustion, I let him take the stick inside and thought to myself, "What harm could this stick do? All he's going to do is chew on it?" HA! When we were inside, I left Moe and his stick alone in the living room while I went to change (finally), and by the time I got back to the living room, little pieces of wood covered every inch of the floor. And he didn't stop there. All the pillows had been pulled down, and most of the bills that had been on the coffee table now were, too, all over the floor. At this point I didn't know if I should be mad or amazed at how quickly he made an orderly apartment look like a condemned home or pissed that I had to get on my hands and knees to pick up the mess.

After I had cleaned up Moe's mess, and ate something standing up with my arm holding my plate high in the air so Moe could not get my food, I sat down for hopes of a few moments of peace. But alas, a few seconds after I sat down, I saw that was not going to happen. Moe came galloping onto the sofa, knocking me off and standing on top of me. As I tried to get back up, he continued to push me over, and just to add insult to injury, Moe sat on my head and farted. One of those silent, nasty, dog farts. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom thinking that this just might make me vomit.

Once I washed my face, and forgave Moe for farting on me, I leashed him back up (double lock and guard this time) to take him back out to make sure that fart was not the beginning of a nasty poo. As we, again, bolted down the stairs, Moe noticed some men unpacking a U-haul, and he made a sharp turn toward the men, pulling me along behind him. One of the men went running back into the car screaming like a little girl in terror over this lab approaching, and the other (while his hand scratching his own ass) came up and stopped Moe for me. Moe, again, got very excited over all this attention the Ass Scratching U-haul man was giving him, and yes, he peed on him, too. In my total embarrassment, I pulled Moe back into the apartment, turned Lady GaGa back on to entertain him, and said a silent prayer of Thanksgiving that my mother would be here soon to take Moe out of my hands.

Although Moe is a nightmare at times, when he is away, I do miss him, and I know he will be a huge part of "Being Brice." Animals always see spirits the way mediums see spirits, and when others sense a spirit around me and run away in terror, Moe always loyally stands beside me. After all... a dog is a man's best friend...

*I apologize for this blog not being about a paranormal event. Most of my blogs are, but I felt it necessary for you, my followers to get to know Moe. He will continue to come in and out of "Being Brice," and yes, will be a part of many ghost stories to come... :) The next blog will be back to paranormal phenomenon.

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