Tits Up: Stories of the BlackDog (Humor)

As a tribute to the BlackDog, I thought I'd share some of the humorous stories about me and the evil black dog.

A few years ago, my little town got a unexpected icy snowstorm. The streets were covered in a foot of freezing, icy white stuff. A normal teeth-chattering winter morning.

I take the dogs out to pee and then bring them in and shut the door. I jump in the shower to warm up. I'm under the near boiling water, enjoying the heat when I hear a banging noise.

I ignore it.

Then, I hear barking.

I sigh and climb out of the shower. I take a second to throw on granny panties, a robe, and wrap my hair in a towel, basically what's left in the drier and run down the hall. The front door's wide open. My white dogs are huddled together on the heated dog bed.

The evil BlackDog is gone, like the wicked snow troll that she is.

I call her name as a chilly breeze billows up my robe to caress bare legs. No little black dog. Nothing but piles of white snow and icy black streets. Yikes. You see, BlackDog suffers from congestive heart disease and bad hips. A hike in the snow is a bad idea.

I stuff my feet into tennis shoes and run out to search for her. Yes, I'm staggering up and down the street in my robe, a towel and shoes, screaming "Katie"..."Katie"..."You little bitch". Finally..."BlackDog!"

The neighbors love me.

No answer. No little black dog. Twenty minutes later, I'm still looking for her. I can't feel anything below my knees. My fingers are numb.

Then I see her. She's on the neighbor's porch, chowing down on kitty chow. The kitty the chow belonged to was hissing at dog. She ignored the kitty and me. I tromped up the stairs, bend over the bowl to grab BlackDog just as she darts down the stairs and hides behind a bush.

However, right that second, the front door opens...the kitty's owner stares down at me. I'm hunched over the mostly empty cat bowl with her cat hissing at me. What am I suppose to do? Tell her I didn't eat the kibble?

All you can do is what I did.

I smile and wave as I back away slowly and pray they don't call the cops.

BlackDog is missing again. The white snow streets are empty. Little bitch.

Then I spot her fuzzy body sitting on my welcome mat back at my front door. I take off running, robe flapping around my chubby thighs. Just as I get to my car, I hit a patch of ice and fall.

I try to catch myself, arms windmilling, and instead roll down the hood of my snow encrusted car and land on the ground in full view of the neighbors. My robe is open, my tits are out, my granny panties are showing. Snow slides down the inside of my panties.

I'm a bit dazed.

Several of my neighbors, male and female, stare down at me.

The skinny middle aged man married to woman next door asks, "Are you all right?"

How do I answer that?

I dunno.

Damn BlackDog.

By the way, one of the neighbors let her in the house while I was trying to get up. She peed on my floor. Forty minutes outside and she waited until she came back in the house.

Damn BlackDog.