Animal House

Mandy and I have been living together for almost 2 years now. Here is visual proof of why we're retarded.
This is Rosco. Mandy and the Girls bought him for me days before my 25th birthday, because I was (and still am) freakishly outnumbered in my house (at the time it was 4-1 girls.) Rosco is a purebred Saint Bernard, and is a complete spaz. I loved this dog until I came into the kitchen one day and saw that he had Mia pinned in the corner. That effectively ended that relationship.

After Rosco left for Elko, we decided it was time for another cat (Rainbow had left once she got territorial and started pissing on everything that belonged to the baby.) Not pictured is Ellie, the crazy-ass rescue cat we got from the Como Humane Society. She literally jumped off of an apartment building at 2:30 am once, so she was gone. This here is Foxy, who is half-minx. She was a fun little kitty until her feral insticts took over and she started attacking the kids (there is a recurring theme here.)

After two failed cats and the relocation of another to the girl's dad's house, we decided it was time for another dog. This is Mickey, the purebred Coonhound. I thought we had struck gold with this one, also from the Como Humane Society. He walked great on a leash, was real mellow, and generally just kept to himself. The fact that he came home grossly underweight (48 lbs.--he should've been right around 60) and he had Kennel cough weren't bid deals--we got a free vet visit and free meds so all should have been peachy. One week of antibiotics put the spring back in his step, and off he ran into the streets and out of our lives. Bummer. (If you haven't noticed his enormous dog penis or huge dog balls by now, I'm sure I just helped you out a little bit.)

These two we picked up for $50 each, named them Phil and something else, and sold them for $200 each a week later. Lab/wirehair mix puppies or something like that. Nice dogs, fed them well, but one week was long enough. We knew what we were getting into with these two, and found them great owners who like to hunt. Perfect.

Which birngs us up to the present. This, as stated below, is Seamus, The English Springer Spaniel. Hopefully this guy turns out alright. At press time we've had him for 6 days--he's only barked once, follows me everywhere I go, is fully housetrained, loves kids, walks well on a leash, and doesn't freak out if he sees another dog. He utterly rules. Not pictured is our cat Vivian (Vivi to her friends)--she's on the mend from having her womanhood and only lines of defense surgically removed. Also not pictured is Dumpster, my dog from childhood who is dead. I'll find a picture of him and get it up here ASAP. He was funny.

There you have it--Mandy and I have lost our minds.