7:18 p.m. - 2010-09-18
Margaret.
Having a dog is kind of fun. Sometimes I love her and sometimes I honestly hate her. I don't generally feel hatred towards things, so it is unsettling for me. Especially to feel it towards something so small and cute. But 95% of the time I don't hate her. Only in the mornings when she keeps biting and being wild despite letting her out the bathroom and feeding her.
Our apartment opens up onto a roof area with walls just high enough Margaret (our dog) can't fall off. Except one part on the far end, the roof walls dip down just enough Margaret could jump over them if she tried. Every time margaret goes anywhere near it, we yell 'NO!' which seems to have instilled a strong enough fear of that part of the roof in her that she doesn't go near it very often.
The roof area is fairly large and has some piles of dirt so we let her use it as a bathroom. Mostly the rain clears her mess away, but if not we clean it up.
Beside our bed is a window that opens up onto the roof, so I can let her out to go to the bathroom without getting out of bed.
During those 5% times when I hate margaret I think, 'I really wouldn't care if she died right now.' But I still make sure she doesn't go towards the far end of the roof and I will jump out of bed and run onto the roof to grab her if she does.
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