Monday, January 21, 2013

Someone please care about me.

I like to think that I am not alone with my inability to be responsible. A real nightmare begins when I should care not only about myself but about someone else too. A dog. A plant. A boyfriend.


When going out with my boyfriend I try not to bump into someone or not to drop anything from my pocket (or at least smth important like my third set of keys or my forth cellphone or my fifth monthly metro ticket) or not to remember that I forgot to lock the door or feed my dog or where is my ipad omg oh alright here it is.. my hat where is my hat??). And here is my boyfriend whining: "I need a tissue why does NOBODY have a tissue? NOBODY cares about meee."


Or when I was 10 my Dad gave me a plant in a small red pot. The plant was lovely and the pot was all sparkling but..



..then I realized that I need to water it regularly and all the same it can die at any moment. Finally my Mum decided to give it to Granny to stop my hysteria.

And now I have a dog.


I was nagging to buy it crying and promising (too much) and than SUCCESS! I got a puppy and it didn't matter whether it was a big severe shepherd or a tiny stupid fluffy york - it was a Dog (which I already promised to feed and to brush and to wash and to walk and also to train like a shepherd). At first I was succeeding pretty well and I think I still succeed, because, well, she is still alive and she will turn 6 this summer.

First 4 months it was a furry ball of energy fighting with sneakers and furniture. When she turned 3 she wasn't fluffy anymore despite my Mum sworn that she will keep My Dog fluffy forever.


But I suspect that what happened yesterday was a pathetic attempt to turn My Dog into a fluffy puppy again. My almost-six-years-old Dog. When I was brushing her hair after a washing I said to my Mum: "Can we cut off some hair from her head? It seems that it only disturbs her and it isn't beautyfull at all." After some hesitation my Mum agreed.

*Chop!*

Mum: "Now she looks strange with this pineapple on her head!"
Me: "Don't know. Not my fault."

I ran away. However in a few minutes I heard my Mum calling for help: "Daughter? Do something! Help me! I was trying to make her look lovelier but she became even more strange! What should I do? Do something!"

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