Bad Idea Of The Day Part Deux?!

I'm trying to be fancy by throwing French words into my blog titles! Is it working? I didn't think so.
Well, as I predicted, this title could indeed be a daily thing. Maybe I'm psychic? I hope not. Because then all those times I've said "sorry....my crystal ball is in the shop" when someone was shocked I didn't know something, wouldn't really be funny anymore!
I grew up an animal lover. I had dogs all throughout my childhood. I've always been "that friend" that goes to your house and ends up leaving looking like a used lint roller because I've been rolling around the floor with your pet. And it didn't end with the household pets either. I remember crying so hard riding in the back seat of my parents' car as a little girl after passing a dead squirrel on the road. We lived in suburbia. This was a regular occurrence. I'm pretty sure the parentals were probably close to seeking professional help in the form of a shrink on more than one occasion. But THAT'S a whole other story for another day ;)
Anyway, I'm not really sure when my view on animals officially changed. I still love animals. I'll stop if one is darting across the road in front of the Mystery Machine. I'll call the cops to let them know if a stray dog is running around the neighborhood in the hopes it can find it's way home with their help. (Ok....I may have called the cops on MY dog on one of the many times he's scooted under our fence to trot around the neighborhood. Details Details) But all in all, I do love animals. Maybe not just mine so much. Our first dog, Kayles(don't ask) is a good dog. He listens to every breath that comes out of my husband's mouth. Literally. He sits next to his side of the bed at night just watching him breath. It's creepy. He's a total pleaser (back to the dog now) and makes sure he's not a total pushover with the kids now that their a little older. The baby still has free reign with tail pulling, eyelid lifting, tongue grabbing and fur pulling. But the older kids are put in check from time to time. Which as a parent who is genuinely concerned for all animalkind when minis are involved, I'm glad that the animals in my house are the ones gently teaching the limits now. A parent can only say something so many times(2 maybe?) before they just start to sound like the teacher in the Charlie Brown movies. However, when the dogs go nose to nose with one of the minis after a not-so-gentle game of "horsey", they listen! I've actually watched Kayles herd Child 1 into the corner like he was punishing him. HAHA!
Our second dog, Chauncey aka Fat Bastard, is not such a gem. He's not a bad dog, I guess. He's just not that wonderfully lovable family pet that everyone has in mind when they go to the shelter. He puts up with all the kids crap which in my eyes, makes him good AND worthy of staying under our roof! However, this is the shaky dog. Shortly after having our first son, Fat Bastard started having grand mal seizures. VERY scary to witness. And really not much you can do for the poor animal while it's happening. When he would come to, he didn't have any idea who we were or where he was. Of course, since we had a newborn in the house and sleep was at a minimum, these seizures would only occur in the middle of the f'n night! We had to resort to medicating him because they started to come more often. Sometimes twice a night. So after a few dose changes, he is now on two different seizure meds for life. A side effect of the drugs, is hunger. Let me just say that Fat Bastard got his nickname BEFORE the seizures. He used to(and still does) jump on counters, tables, PEOPLE for a taste of food! Anything he could get his snout on, he was in it. He's gross really. So with the addition of the meds, he was even hungrier! And ever-growing too. He's kind of short and stout. Like a teapot! But weighed in at his largest at 112 pounds. He's a black and tan mutt. Probably mixed with Rottweiler and who knows what. Cute. But fat.
Hmmmm maybe it's just a recent thing that my love for animals has.......dwindled?
Anyway, the poor dears ran out of their ridiculously expensive, high quality food. They pretty much eat better than we do. My only reason for keeping them on this food at this point, is because I know on lower quality food, they'll just poop MORE. We just don't have the plot of land that is needed to support two 100lb dogs pooping 5 times a day. We just don't! I can't even imagine. shiver.
The Hubbs was working, of course. So I bundled up the 3 minis, and packed us all in the Mystery Machine for a trip to the "puppy food store" as we so adoringly call it. Here's where the bad idea falls into play. There was a friggin monsoon outside! I was seriously a little worried. Listening to the radio, it was pretty warm for November in NJ at 56 degrees. But it was pouring with 40 mile an hour wind gusts. Would you like to bet whether or not a child's hood will stay up in that kind of weather? Not so much. We were all soaked! Drenched is probably the correct word used to describe us. So we tour the fish department, pick up the 40 lb bag of food that will last them 2 weeks, and head to the check out where the very nice cashier gathers my 3 coupons and PALS card for savings, yet proceeds to ask me if I'd like to donate $ to poor, poor shelter pets. It wasn't her fault there was a monsoon outside. And it certainly wasn't her fault I needed to drag all these kids to her store to buy this expensive food. So I took a deep breath and said "No Thank You" with a little snicker on my face. I was proud of myself for not venting to this poor girl that it's shelter pets in my home that eat EVERYTHING. It's shelter pets that have cost mortgage payments at the Vet's office because they have seizures, or allergies, or the time that Fat Bastard was sniffing around the counters for food and ate an entire bottle of iron pills when I was pregnant with Child 1! We're eating mac and cheese for dinner while our shelter pets have the very best dog food money can buy. And when they ran out the night before......did I let them starve? NO.....I cooked them brown rice. I might actually make a call to the shelters to see if they have some sort of reimbursement program. Or if at least they'd like to have a friggin statue of me made with angels wings put on the back to display in the middle of their lawn!
Whew.......good thing I kept my mouth shut. I mean I am a parent trying to teach lessons to my offspring of how to act and all! Truth be told, if I started verbalizing all this to the cashier, I'm pretty sure I would have ended up crying in the fetal position by the catnip aisle. Reality bites.
Oh...and another thing.......if I had a spare dollar to give to poor shelter pets, I would have PAID someone to go buy these dogs their snooty falooty dog food in a monsoon instead of dragging my kids out in it. Hmph!

Need to go let the dogs in before they scratch through the glass door out back.  You've seen those nails!!