You guys may have noticed that I haven't been on here for awhile. That's because we took off unexpectedly and went to St,Louis to see the kid. This time, we even took the three dogs and Auntie Sandi. In other words, it was a gigantic circus and guess who gets to play ringmaster? Uh huh.....OMG! What a nerve racking experience all around! The back end of the car is packed with Christmas presents for the brat along with Mum's wheelchair, snacks, cooler of sodas, blankets for the dogs, Mum's favorite pillow (she can only sleep with "her" pillow, of course...) and the other assorted odds and ends that just have to go along for the ride. By the time I was crossing the Iowa/Missouri border I was ready to chuck the whole lot of them out to the curb so they could catch the Greyhound.
So, we get in around two thirty in the afternoon after countless pee stops (both dogs and humans...), trips to the bakery in Pella (gotta have Dutch Letters and Christmas cookies to bring the kid...) and then the desk clerk informs us that the room we reserved won't be ready for two hours. I'm beat up exhausted....So we take the only thing available....on the second floor. Well, that does not make the wife happy having to climb stairs in her weakened condition but, what choice do we have?I stay behind with the dogs while they go bumming about with the brat ("No...I'll pass on the trip to the ladies clothing store to look for new bra's...). The Red Goof Inn is a way better spot to hang out at while they shop. But, the first thing that happens is the wife gets all upset after spying a used condom laying on the ground just beyond the walkway to the car. After having to pass by it four times myself with armloads of junk and suitcases, I will have to admit it did lend an air of unease debating if this trashy motel was really safe to stay at. I noticed the grounds were very littered and the guy next door (a recently released parolee....) informed me that the condom had been there for at least three days. So...what does the wife do? She calls the desk. When they get back....the condom is still laying there. So she REALLY complains. A couple hours later, after we finally got everyone settled down and Sandi stopped texting and beeping around on her phone, the manager shows up and wakes up the whole damn lot. Dogs howling and barking, flashlights,OMG....it sounds like a police raid (probably not the first in this joint...). The whole building is awake now. The wife goes out and points out where the offending prophylactic lay curled up like a sneaky snake in the grass. OK...now that's taken care of... Maybe someone will bother to sweep up the mounds of ciggie butts outside the doorway to our room. Then again...maybe not. The wife is threatening to call the General Manager, the CEO of the company and Donald Trump, if all else fails. So....I go down to the office the next day and get the number to the complaint department. Right...when I dialed the number.........I got a "Would you like to go back to college?" recording. This place is so f###ed up they can't even give me the right number to call to complain. Probably why they did, if you ask me. I'm sure this place receives numerous such complaints. They all get re-routed to 1-800-Screw You....
So...now comes the day to leave. Ah...finally, I get to go home and leave these mad women behind (OK...I'll keep the one I married, I guess...). Uh...right.....What does the kid decide to do? She wants Sir Spazo (and ya all remember our last encounter with the dog from Hell....)taken back to the Animal Rescue where we got him from. He just cannot be managed. If anything, this brute has grown larger (if that's even possible...) and more uncontrollable than I recalled. Just getting him into the back of the car into his huge cage caused dislocated shoulders and bruises over 95 % of my body. Oh crap...and it's going to be at least six pee stops before we get home. This parole violator is going back to Super Max, Jack... What a beast!!! So...here we go...Two women (now all depressed because they can't stay longer to visit more), Four dogs barking and whining including the nuke barker in the back...WOOOF!!~WOOOF!! that can damn near shatter windows with a single bark. Six hours? Let's just hope the police aren't out today...It's pedal to the metal time.
Finally back home, we drop off Sandi and the other doggies and take Sir Spazo back to jail. Yeah...it sort of sucks but, I always knew that the brat wasn't going to be able to handle this giant puppy. He's just too way out of control. He needs to be a farm dog with acres and acres to run in....not stuck in a cage all day and night. So, we had to say good-bye and hope that someone will want him (he is a good looking dog...just too bad he's still a big puppy) who can spend the time to give him the home he needs. So....what is the brat going to do for a dog now? She wants Penny.....our dog. OK...why not. When the kid comes up for the wife's surgery here in a few days, she will take Penny home on a trial basis. I guess the brat finally figured out that having a large, uncontrollable dog in a small apartment is NOT the best idea ever. And, to be honest, giving her Penny to keep for awhile might just be a good thing. One less thing to worry about right now. So, I'm good with it.