Saturday Night Fever

Husbandette and I had a nice Saturday evening dinner with Ette1, Pants, Shwarez and her husbandette. Sushi, sake and conversation makes for a nice evening out. It was great to catch up with my peeps. I wish we did it more often.

What else happened Saturday night, you ask? After a night-cap at some random bar that 1 told us later is where she and Pants make out sometimes (her choice to take us there, interesting - says a lot about her, right?) we headed back to 1's"crib" for another nightcap sans the Semegrans as they had had just about enough of us at that point and wanted to get the hell out of there. So we get to 1's apartment which is basically the size of the inside of my car. Literally, if I had four people and a dog in my car, we could pretend we were sitting in 1's apartment. It's cute, she has new artwork and even a little bistro table. Lovely. So she runs in ahead of us so she can pick up the wee wee pads and not embarrass Bam the devildog. We finally get in, sit down, turn on the music, and that's when husbandette takes on his alter-ego of Caesar the Dog Whisperer. He decides at this point that he is going to use this time to "connect" with Bam. First attempt, he gets Bam in a good position, doesn't sneak up on her because we all know that's the wrong mode of attack. He casually gets her handed off from 1 in an attempt of trickery - let's fool Bam and she may not notice she's been passed off to a stranger. Hmm. Well I'm sitting on the couch next to them, and I'm watching Bam closely. At this point, she is shaking so severely, I swear she's having a seizure. Her little whiskers on her face are twitching, her eyes are twitching, it's really kind of scary and fascinating all at the same time. And husbandette is holding her with one hand, sort of levitating in the air. I am transfixed, can't take my eyes off this shivering, manic, seizing dog. All of a sudden I smell farts. Aw, that's so cute, she's so scared she's gone and given herself gas. Then, right before my eyes, I watch a quite large deuce fall from her rear right onto husbandette, where it kind of bounces off his thigh and on to the sofa. It was sort of gravity-defying. So he let's go of Bam and Bam goes scurrying under the TV unit in what can only be described as a combination of fear, titillation, nervous energy and intrigue. She bops around under there, back and forth, sticks her head out once in a while but for the most part she's had enough.

Fast forward to half an hour later. Either husbandette had a relapse in which he forgot the events of half an hour before or that pot was really that good. He again goes into Caesar mode, and this time, 1 has a less-cavalier approach. She literally "tosses" Bam at husbandette. He gets her by the backside, again tries his levitation technique, and again Bam shakes and shakes. It's getting increasingly difficult to watch her, it's actually making me a little dizzy. I am about to look away when I see droplets mid air and then "splash" onto husbandette's leg. Bam is pissing all over him.

So what did we take away from this experience? One, husbandette is not, has never been nor ever will be Caesar the Dog Whisperer. Two, pot smoking and dog handling do not go hand in hand. Three, when you are at someones house and you get pissed and shat on and it's not because it's some kinky thing you are into, well that's when it's time to leave and go home to your loving, cuddly, snuggly, wonderfully well-behaved dog, who never pees on anyone.