Raccoon and Lobster

So I’m taking Arthur for a late night poop walk and as I head out the door I grab the crust of the pizza that The Boyfriend was eating so I could give it to him later. “Him” meaning Arthur, not The Boyfriend who is fully capable of pooping without my assistance. As soon as he gets the pizza crust into his mouth he falters and looks to find a place to eat his prize in peace. Being the bitch that I am, I keep walking and Arthur, flummoxed, follows. He veers left and right trying to disappear into the bushes but I keep marching forward and suddenly it becomes clear to me that Arthur is incapable of eating his pizza crust while he’s still walking. I start walking even faster and now he’s scampering as fast as his little furry legs can go and there’s no detours to chase squirrels or stray cats or mark on trees because dear god there is a pizza crust in his mouth and he doesn’t know how to get it in his stomach while his legs are moving.

Of course I can’t just let this go without documentation and seeing as how I never take my cell phone with me when I go anywhere, I have to get a camera from home without stopping so that Arthur can swallow his pizza crust. So I turn towards the house and cruise past my front door at a brisk jog, ringing the doorbell and running off. All I need is for The Boyfriend to figure out that I  need him to go grab his camera and hand it to me while I’m running back and forth down the block and without asking inane questions like “What?” and “Why?” and “What the hell are you doing?”

If it is 1am and I am running back and forth dragging a dog behind me and gesticulating wildly for you to Bring. Me. A. Camera. Dammit. you should just go ahead and bring me the camera and ask questions later so I don’t have to wake up the neighbors and ask them for their camera because this is clearly a blogging emergency. Needless to say my outbursts of “Arthur! Pizza! Camera! Go!!” coupled with frantic shooing motions do not produce the desired effect and now Rocky is in the yard trying to get in on the walking action and so I just grab his phone out of his hands (The Boyfriend’s phone, not Rocky’s. Rocky’s phone doesn’t have a camera that works in low light. And he doesn’t have hands.) and run back to Arthur and dash for the end of the block but the jig is up and the little bastard has remembered how to chew. I reach my hand down his throat and grab the soggy bits of crust out of his mouth and start running, holding the phone in one hand and trying to take a picture while shoving the pizza back into his mouth with the other but it’s too late and Arthur swallows the pieces before he starts running. I curse and head back home and The Boyfriend looks at me like I am mentally ill.

But read over this story again and you tell me who the real idiots are in this story because one of them can’t walk and chew at the same time and the other one is Arthur.