ginger avenger

This is my dog Ginger, and I’m pretty sure she’s trying to kill me. Oh sure, I sound paranoid, but I’m convinced it’s true.  In fact,  she tried to do me in just this weekend.

But before I get into that, let me tell you why I think she has it in for me. See, Eric was Ginger’s dog before he and I got married. She was head bitch, if you will. But now that I’m here, she’s not top dog anymore.  Oh sure, she’s nice when Eric’s around, but when’s he’s not, the claws come out.

On Friday I worked a little late, then bought some much needed alcohol.  Eric was at happy hour, so when I came home, it was just Ginger and me… and a horrible gas smell that filled the whole house.  Ginger must have put her paws on the stove while looking for people food, and turned a burner knob on in the process.  It didn’t light, just filled the house with gas.

I gave Eric a call, and he had me turn off the furnace and open the windows. While the gas dissipated from the air, I eyed Ginger. No, she didn’t win this time, but she taught me not to underestimate her plotting capabilities.