Monday, November 23, 2009


Friday was a wickedly windy day. The kind of bluster that makes me almost glad I've added a couple pounds since landing in Northern Nevada; for if I'd been just 10 pounds lighter, the gales surely would have boosted me like a helium balloon.

Living in the desert as we do, winds like Friday's set the sagebrush and miles of dust to dancing. It's all brown out here, and at the end of my work day my dark blue car was clad in desert drab. There was dust under my fingernails (the ones I hadn't already bit off). Dust up my nose. In my eyes. Stuck to the product in my hair. And sprinkling my suit.

Thus when I got home I figured a quick dousing was in order. I left my clothes in a pile on the closet floor and stepped into the shower to wash the work of the wind away.

Once out of the shower and dry, I returned the closet to get dressed. As they hadn't been desert dusted like the rest of me, I grabbed the underwear I'd put on that morning to slip back on (if that made you gag, go away). When I pulled the panties up I realized that they were damp. No. Wet. They were more wet than damp.

I don't remember wetting my pants, I thought. I mean, I could have, but I don't remember doing it.

I pulled them off and checked to see if the moisture was the indicative color for That Time of the Month, which fortunately it wasn't; for that time had passed a week ago and it would be all to cruel for it to pop up again.

How in the world did my underwear get all wet?
I puzzled while grabbing a new pair from the bureau.

I then looked to my right at the small, furry thing licking her lips.

She'd been busy cleansing my underwear while I'd been cleansing myself of the Nevada grime.

Sophie, you are disgusting. Just 'cause I leave my underwear on the floor doesn't mean that you can make a meal out of licking the crotch, you filthy beast.

Dogs can be gross. And desperate, for--trust me--there was nothing on the crotch for her to get at.

Lately, the Husband has been bemoaning that we're not give the Soph enough food.

He may be on to something.


L said...

I am literally on the ground rolling in laughter. Better fatten her up. At first I thought she had peed in your under-roos but this was so much better. Thanks Soph for being awesome.

Jessica said...

It kills me that you even considered the wetness was from you peeing your pants. Like a little old lady. So funny.

Oh, and dogs are definitely gross sometimes. Bell has taken to licking the husband's pants while he is still wearing them. As though she likes dry cleaning chemicals or something. Weirdo.

Tricia said... sucks when u buy expensive underwear & leave it on the floor one morning & come home to a crotchless pair because the dog ATE it! all dogs are filthy little biatches...female or not.

glad your undies at least survived being consumed. and the picture of the innocent looking culprit made me laugh right out loud!!!

Unknown said...

Oh that's just too funny! I bet she thought that was such a treat.

The biatch in my home tends to go for my husband's under things. She prefers him over me. As stupid as it is, it makes me a little territorial.

L said...

Rae Lynne, territorial in the sense that you fight the dog over your husband's under things? That sounds like something one might find on pay-per-view.....

Winder said...

That is seriously one of the funniest things I have read in a long time. Thanks!

Katharina said...

During a past house/dog/cat-sitting gig, I set my clothes out on top of the closed toilet lid whilst I showered. And while I soaped up, the smallest dog-beast of the house slipped in and made short work of my very favorite skivvies. ATE half the damn things.

Your feeding solution is kinder than my swift swat on the behind solution.
Maybe it is similar to the cop-out of parents everywhere..."it's different when it's your own"?

p.s. You make me laugh.

Natalie said...

Remind me sometime to tell you the story about how my dog ate my sister's thong underwear - as in chewed and swallowed - and then puked it up on the Oregon coast. Dramatic, I tell you.

(He later did it a second time, we rushed him to the vet, they took an x-ray to confirm, I now have it framed in the bathroom. Spine, stomach, thong underwear. It was x-ray number 666, no lies here friend.)

L said...

Ha Nat that is great. Brings a whole new meaning to the term edible underwear. Was it Peter Pan who consumed the thong?

Natalie said...

But of course, Larsie. Peter Peter Peter, he is such an emotional eater, you know. (Barnaby has no taste for undies, he prefers his own poo.)

rabidrunner said...

You are one fine and awesome broad! I was about to think our dogs are related. Judging from the comments I can see that it must be a dog thing. I'm going to do a test when I get home. I'm gonna leave the unders of Spouse out to see if the Pound Hound does the same...

Adrianne*Dustin*Kellen*Katie said...

I am dying right now because you made me have a flash back to a similar occurance with similar looking dog. She's my little rat dog and I'll have to love her and her dirty habits.

Megan said...

Adrianne, it makes me glad that I'm not the only one who has had an experience like this one.

Aren't rat dogs the best?

Celeste said...

All I have to say is that I find it hilarious that you think that this is any more fit for blog fodder than "my kid tinkled in the toity." That is nasty. Is it just a small dog thing? The grossest thing my Dane mix ever did was lick my husbands junk after he got out of the shower. Yeah, I have never heard him scream in that octave! Freaking hilarious.

Megan said...

That's the only thing you know of that your Dane mix has done.

There's a more than good chance he's been enjoying your underthings without your knowledge.