My husband went fishing today; no doubt to escape me and my eternal whining.
Anywho, he came home and told me he got something for the aquarium. We recently bought a new filtration system for the salt water aquarium, which for some reason killed all of our fish. He's been trying to balance the water.
So for S&Gs, he had caught (and kept alive) 5 croakers, each about six to seven inches in length. Three of them he put in our 55 gallon tank. He dumped the water out of the cooler, intending on bagging the others for the freezer (future cut bait). He said he's testing the water in the tank. WTF ever, honey.
The flopping on the deck got Kilo's attention. Trying to bite one, he got smacked in the face with a tail, which got him to yapping. This got NO up from his snooze in the sunshine and he came to investigate. The flipping and flopping was too much for him or perhaps he merely wanted to show the pup how it was done...but NO got a mouthful of something he didn't want. His quandry was 1) he didn't want it 2) Mr. Smurf didn't want him to have it, so 3) he MUST keep it from him.
NO jumps off the porch, fish flapping away in his mouth, slapping him across the face. You know how doggie eyebrows get when they're confused. That was NO. He's prancing around the yard with this 'catch', not wanting it and not wanting to let it go and Lord knows it must taste something awful.
He dropped it on the ground and began licking the grass. Here comes Mr. Smurf running across the yard. I swear NO sighed as he picked it back up and took off again.
He's whining at this point. The fish is croaking (the noise...and dying...so both terms apply, I suppose) and Mr. Smurf is cussing. Kilo is barking at the one still flopping on the deck. NO is downright crosseyed trying to look at this God awful thing he's biting while it's croaking and flopping around. He's running around with his neck all stretched out like he's literally trying to get away from the smell and taste of this thing and high-stepping it because he surely can't see where he's going.
I'm high on Percs and holding on to the door jam laughing at all of them. Kilo grabs the one off the deck and takes off for the house. I don't THINK so. I'm not having some half-dead, stinky-***ed fish in my house.
Mr. Smurf picks up a stick and throws it. NO goes for the stick, dropping the croaker. Mr. Smurf snatches it up and NO starts dragging his tongue across the grass and gagging.
As I type this, I can HEAR the croakers in my fishtank.....hellllooooo, redneck.
Anywho, he came home and told me he got something for the aquarium. We recently bought a new filtration system for the salt water aquarium, which for some reason killed all of our fish. He's been trying to balance the water.
So for S&Gs, he had caught (and kept alive) 5 croakers, each about six to seven inches in length. Three of them he put in our 55 gallon tank. He dumped the water out of the cooler, intending on bagging the others for the freezer (future cut bait). He said he's testing the water in the tank. WTF ever, honey.
The flopping on the deck got Kilo's attention. Trying to bite one, he got smacked in the face with a tail, which got him to yapping. This got NO up from his snooze in the sunshine and he came to investigate. The flipping and flopping was too much for him or perhaps he merely wanted to show the pup how it was done...but NO got a mouthful of something he didn't want. His quandry was 1) he didn't want it 2) Mr. Smurf didn't want him to have it, so 3) he MUST keep it from him.
NO jumps off the porch, fish flapping away in his mouth, slapping him across the face. You know how doggie eyebrows get when they're confused. That was NO. He's prancing around the yard with this 'catch', not wanting it and not wanting to let it go and Lord knows it must taste something awful.
He dropped it on the ground and began licking the grass. Here comes Mr. Smurf running across the yard. I swear NO sighed as he picked it back up and took off again.
He's whining at this point. The fish is croaking (the noise...and dying...so both terms apply, I suppose) and Mr. Smurf is cussing. Kilo is barking at the one still flopping on the deck. NO is downright crosseyed trying to look at this God awful thing he's biting while it's croaking and flopping around. He's running around with his neck all stretched out like he's literally trying to get away from the smell and taste of this thing and high-stepping it because he surely can't see where he's going.
I'm high on Percs and holding on to the door jam laughing at all of them. Kilo grabs the one off the deck and takes off for the house. I don't THINK so. I'm not having some half-dead, stinky-***ed fish in my house.
Mr. Smurf picks up a stick and throws it. NO goes for the stick, dropping the croaker. Mr. Smurf snatches it up and NO starts dragging his tongue across the grass and gagging.
As I type this, I can HEAR the croakers in my fishtank.....hellllooooo, redneck.
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