For those of you who know me, you know that I love animals and basically claim to be Ace Ventura. All of my pets are rescues and I am currently proud papa to 2 dogs and 1 cat.  Dolly is a Bichon Frise who is ALWAYS up in a brother's grill.  My cat, Oprah, is deaf (which probably comes in rather handy.  My dogs are obnoxious and, let's be honest, I wrote the book on boisterous).  And Wilma is my rescued standard schnauzer with separation anxiety and a wide variety of other mental health disorders.  I don't really know much about where Wilma came from.  She's a strikingly beautiful pooch . . . but a total basket case.  I like to refer to her as Kibbles and Fits!  To give you guys a sneak peak into the life of one of my neurotic four-pawed children, I decided to share with you WILMA'S FIVE FAVORITE PLACES TO GO!


Yes, my dogs are spoiled.  I often joke that I would have had less stress in my life if I had just pulled an "Octomom" and had 8 kids.  I mean, for real!  I mentioned that Wilma is beautiful, but that doesn't come naturally.  She just doesn't roll off the doggy bed ready to tackle the day.  No!  This brand of canine beauty requires work and maintenance.  She requires monthly visits to see Terry at Pampered Pets grooming salon on Veach Road here in Owensboro.  I mean, just look at the before and after pictures above!!  Pampered Pets works miracles with Wilma's salt and pepper mane!


While Wilma appears to have it all together, she doesn't.  She is a nutcase!  Wilma is terrified of storms and runs around the house freaking out anytime she sees or hears Wayne Hart.  I know the week I got her, some friends of mine found her walking around a neighborhood at a yard sale.  I suppose the schnauzer, like everyone else, was out looking for a bargain.  But, truth be told, she had been abandoned . . . or had run away from her owners and she was caught outside in a week full of severe weather.  Well, now, she has full-on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  If she hears thunder or someone near her passes gas and it vaguely resembles the sound of thunder, she immediately assumes it's going to storm and she's going to die!  She starts to pant, goes crazy and immediately seeks shelter.  Luckily for Wilma, we have a cellar!  Apparently Wilma saw All Dogs Go To Heaven and she isn't buying it!


Because Wilma is so nervous, she has developed some very bad habits and coping mechanisms.  While it's impossible for Wilma to huff and puff on a pack of Marlboro cigarettes (which I am fully convinced she would do if her paws had thumbs), she does enjoy chewing cigarette butts.  Yes, I know.  That's disgusting.  And, no, I can't explain where she picked up the habit.  Maybe she turned to nicotine when she was homeless.  Who knows?  But Wilma LOVES cigarette butts and, anytime she finds one, she eats it!  And, yes, like a good dad, I stick my entire hand into her mouth and down her throat trying to pull them out, but I rarely retrieve the goods.  I'm left with dog slobber from my wrist to my elbow and she's left with a buzz.  I feel like I'm raising the canine version of Rizzo from Grease.  If she hadn't been spayed, I would fully anticipate a pregnancy scare.


In addition to being a complete neurotic and snuff-chewing fiend, Wilma is a busy-body!  She has to watch over the neighborhood and everyone in it.  There is so much drool on my storm windows even industrial strength Windex and steel wool can't get it off.  Here's how the afternoons and evenings play out at our house.  Wilma sits on the arm of the sofa and stares out the window.  A neighbor walks by, she barks.  (And, I think she's slightly racist because she barks louder if minorities walk by.  No, I'm not kidding.  It's SOOOOOOO embarrasing and rude!!)   But it gets worse!  She sees a rabbit, she barks and foams at the mouth because she wants to kill it.  A squirrel runs across the road, she goes absolutely ape-s@%t and foams at the mouth because she REALLY wants to kill it.  She sees a leaf float across the yard, she barks her head off and foams at the mouth.  Why?  Because she assumes it's a BABY squirrel or rabbit and, yes, she wants to KILL IT!  Wilma is a ruthless hunter.  Unfortunately, she's just too fat to be fast and she doesn't have the attention span necessary to trap her prey.  If she didn't have ADHD, she would be as lethal as the Son of Sam!


Wilma loves Uncle Allan and Aunt Karen.  In fact, she often sees them when she's squirrel hunting or rabbit hunting, and she barks her head off and goes crazy until she gets to go outside and get loved on.  However, Wilma, because she is so nervous and easily excited, often drops a deuce in the most unfortunate of places.  (I would like the jury to examine exhibit A.  Yes, that's exhibit A with Wilma fertilizing Karen's lawn.)  There's no shame in Wilma's game.  As the old saying professes, "When you gotta go, you gotta go."  And goshdarnit, Wilma goes!

So, there you have it!!  My Wilma's Five Favorite Places To Go . . . literally and figuratively!  I have had Wilma for about five to six years now and I love her dearly.  Yes, she barks.  Yes, she's slightly racist.  Yes, she wants to smoke.  But, at the end of the day, when her nerves are shot and the daylight hours have been far too much for the neurotic schnauzer to bear, she climbs up on the couch and plops down in my lap.  I suppose that's her 6th Favorite Place To Go!  Heck.  It works for me!