Ellie Dog

I am a dog person.

So if you have cats we can’t be friends.

Joking.

We can be acquaintances.

I will not own a cat. I don’t do cats.

They’s the devil so says Waterboy’s momma and I believe her.

Sorry.

Not.

So when I was in college I babysat for some family friends who had a silkie terrier.

Then I started looking and I found this older, unwanted silkie puppy online in Mansfield, AR.

They wanted $250 cash and that was it.

So I begged my parents.

And I skipped my Friday 8am World Lit class to go get her with my now husband.

We drove up there and met the woman in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, swapped cash for a puppy & papers, and made our merry way home.

That was how I got my Ellie Dog.

Her {real} name is Elphaba.

I was going to call her Elfi but someone**ahem** said that was dumb and he was calling her Ellie.

So Ellie it was.

Ellie was my baby from then on.

She was an oddball from the start.

She slept with her head tucked under the bed or under the covers if she was in bed with me.

My dad was not keen on inside dogs.

Until Ellie.

I soon noticed Ellie would get up before me in the mornings.

Why?

Because Greg would fix them scrambled eggs every morning and they’d have breakfast.

So when I got married, moved out, and gave Ellie a new home {with our new roommate & husband}; she was not quite keen on a new man in our lives.

She is one for revenge.

‘Don’t like me in the bed, don’t fill my food fast enough, don’t pet me quick enough… I poop on your bath rug sir’

‘Oh I’m not allowed to sit with you? I hoard your socks’

Well the feud endured…

And ‘The Psycho Silkie” was born.

Husband got a fancy laser pen at work shortly after we got married.

Husband would run the red laser dot all over the floor for Ellie to chase.

{that’s fun}

Husband started running it up the walls.

Up to the ceiling.

On the ceiling…

So guess what.

The Psycho thinks any reflection or movement of light whatsoever is out to get us.

Anything.

So guess what trick I have to use when I cook…

Do you see this foil on this chair?

It’s on the stool under our kitchen island.

That would be because I can’t open the cardboard flap without the shrill barking and psychotic breakdown of a silkie terrier.

So I put it under the island, blindly tear my pieces of foil and quickly put them on whatever dish I’m using and hope for the best.

BUT.

Though she be cray cray; she is sweet, she is pretty, she is protective of my girls and I, and she is a snuggler at times.

She is my Elphaba & Ellie Dog.

{and if you don’t know who Elphaba is we need to have a talk}

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