the dog days aren't over

So, the extent to which I treat my dog Fred like he is a human child has always been ridiculous, but lately it is just getting out of damn control.

I love my big brown dog, but I am starting to feel like the older and wiser he gets, the more he is starting to rule the roost. What is it about teenagers that give them this uncanny ability to manipulate their parents? Fred has it down to a science I tell you.

Case in point:

The car. My dog weighs 99 pounds. That is essentially the same size as Clifford. And while as a parent I am just thrilled that he exudes the confidence and self esteem of a chihuahua, the truth of the matter is the boy is big. He really doesn't realize and finds it necessary to sit on my lap at all times, even in the car.

I have a hard time saying no because he is just such a mama's boy but I am pretty sure having a large dog in the front seat of a vehicle is only slightly less dangerous than texting and driving. And if my mom ever taught me anything it is, "Erin, don't text, drink, and drive." True story, that is a thing she said, not or...and. Chew on that.

Fred frequently shifts the car from drive to neutral while he is riding shotty and on many occasions has clawed the passenger and/or driver essentially to death with his nails when he decides to readjust.

Exhibit B:

All my damn money. Fred is bleeding me dry. As I have mentioned this girl right hurr recently went on the envelope budget method. This means I get a certain amount of walking around money to spend each month and when it's gone it's gone. As someone who may be described as a bit of a spend thrift, that means without fail by the end of the month my spending cash is long gone. Last weekend I spent my last $10 for entrance to the goddamn dog beach. Last time I checked, I am the one who goes to work 5 days a week to put Purina on the table, so why on Earth am I spending the last of my loot on a beach day for him?? Think of the shit I could have bought at Target with that money!

Lastly:

Vacations. We have always liked to travel with Fred. He is good in the car when he decides to go in the back seat, he is fine in a hotel, loves to camp all that jazz. So if we can bring him along we usually do. Next weekend is taking the cake though, as we made Labor Day plans to attend a music festival 6 hours away just because dogs are allowed. Dogs are rarely allowed at festivals and when we discovered this one did our minds were made up. Granted we had already been contemplating going, but I bet my ass we would have found something closer if it wasn't for the deal breaker.

As you can probably imagine I am super excited about Fred's first festival. He is going to love it and being as handsome as he is, will no doubt receive tons of attention. I have selected a few snazzy new bandannas for him to sport and since the festival grounds are on a river I have hooked his ass up.

We read on the website of the festival that the river in question is perfect for tubing. If you have never been tubing it includes laying on a flotation device and drinking copious amounts of alcohol all while getting a great tan. It is sheer perfection. When we saw this was an option at the festival man friend was all, "ohh too bad we will have the dog so we can't tube." and I was all, "aww hell no, I'm buying him a tube."

And that I did. Fred now has a heavy duty inner tube covered in nylon. You know the type that you can pull behind a boat for the even more awesome type of tubing? Yeah that kind. It was really cheap too, JK. So next weekend, Fred will be floating in style while man friend and I slum it on our $9 Kmart tubes. But we will be way drunker than Fred so it's all fair in the end.