I have two dogs. I have two VERY large dogs. GINORMOUS.
I love them. I do. Okay, sometimes I love them, sometimes I like them, and sometimes I loathe them.
The English Mastiff. They should come with a warning sign when adding them to your household: “I will eat a lot, I will drool, I will slobber, I fart, I burp, I will sleep most of the day, and my poop is something is be reckoned with.” Wow, sounds like my husband.
The slobber. Unbelievable. Every week I patrol my house in search of “slobber”. Kind of like dusting your house. Only it’s not as easy as grabbing a swiffer duster and gliding throughout your house “locking the dust away with thousands of flexible fibers.” No, this is “get down on your hands and knees” grinding work. Slobber on the floor, slobber on the glass door, slobber on the window sill, slobber on the curtains, slobber on the chairs, SLOBBER ON THE WALLS. And on the walls I mean 5 feet off the floor. No contraption out there today allows me to easily glide throughout the house cleaning each slobber mark. It’s get out the towel and some serious cleaning agent and be prepared to scrub like a mad man.
There has got be a use for this slobber generated by my giants. It must be the cure-all for some alignment out there. Maybe it can clear up planter warts? Oh, wait, better yet, maybe the “fountain of youth” will be found in this slimy goo. Or perhaps it will create a luxurious shine to your hair. Rinse, lather, repeat. Only if… I can hear the song in my head now, “I wanna be a millionaire so frickin’ bad……..”
But I will settle on my gentle giants as the protector of my home, my kids. So patient, so tolerant. Their loyalty is amazing. And although they think they’re lap dogs I’ll keep them. Nothing beats coming home at the end of the day with two slobbery mugs at your window…