is the reason the U.S. Postal Service required me to get a PO Box.
Apparently the beast (we'll call him Hamish - pronounced "Hay-mish"...because it really is his name) was out in the driveway about 2 months ago when the postman came walking up with my mail. Hamish let out a big 'ol vicious bark and the rest is history.
Now what most people do not know (and the rest of what makes this so funny) is that Hamish really has no voice. He was a "rescue" dog (and already named, because I know you are wondering, after this Braveheart character) and his vocal chords were cut when he was a puppy. Now before you go getting all PETA on me, I want to clarify that he does have a voice...just a very raspy one. Very similar to Bette Davis after binge drinking and smoking 12 packs of cigarettes in a night. Or the Godfather with a bad case of laryngitis. Either way, you get the picture.
Now that you have this mental image of the beast and his mighty ferociousness, let's go back to the day my postman was walking up the driveway. So there he is, mace in hand with the Bette Davis Gnarly Beast barking (hacking) up a storm telling my 17 yr. old son to call him off.
My son laughed at him.
Ticked the guy off more.
And now I am required to drive to the post office everyday to get my mail. I had to fill out a forwarding address card and notify everyone and their brother that may send me a piece of mail that my address has changed. It's a huge inconvenience at best.
Maybe if I get rid of my teenager instead of the dog they will start delivering to my house again.
Twelve Days of Boots: Day 12! by The Pioneer Woman
32 minutes ago