sometimes, people ask me what it's like to live with four dogs, and i tell them, it's a lot like living at the zoo, except instead of various animals, some aquatic, some swinging from trees, etc., it's a zoo filled with 4,000 swinging, aquatic, furry dinosaur monsters who occasionally do something so cute, you're reminded that you just can't murder them in their sleep.
but then, you buy slipcovers for your two-year-old sofas because they look like 50-year-old sofas after taking the brunt of living with four dogs, and as you're removing the cushions to drape the clean, new contraptions over them, you find something that looks like this:
and then you have to actually stab yourself in the throat, because you can't believe you've been sitting on such filth for so long. and then your husband asks if you're planning on just brushing it all off onto the floor, and then you stab him in the throat for thinking you're FOUR.
and then you brush most of it on the floor, just out of spite. so THERE.
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