Category Archives: Blanche

HaPpY BiRtHdAy Blanche!

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HaPpY BiRtHdAy Blanche!

For those that are new around here…I write under a pen name. A couple of years ago I came up with a character (Super Cringe) for my pen name because sometimes your alter ego needs an alter ego. You still with me? Super Cringe has a real dog who also has a fake name, Blanche. I know it’s all very complicated…it has to be to keep the KGB off my back. There’s no way they could untangle this mess….anyway, here’s a fake conversation with my real dog who may or may not have a birthday today.

Super Cringe: Happy Birthday Blanche!

Blanche: It’s my birthday? That’s wonderful, do I get treats?

Super Cringe: Way to get right to it Blanche. Is it because your older now…you can’t remember the gift we gave you on Monday?

Blanche: What gift?

Super Cringe: The chicken with the squeaker…you seemed pretty excited about it when we gave it to you. Remember we gave it to you a couple of days early because the boy was going on vacation with his friend’s family….

Blanche: Ahhh yes, the chicken, where is that thing?

Super Cringe: Seriously, you lost it already?

Blanche: Oh, wait a minute, I hid it in the laundry room…that’s a relief. When does the boy get home?

Super Cringe: Sunday

Blanche: I don’t like it when a member of the pack leaves, it makes me anxious.

Super Cringe: Is that why you smell funky?

Blanche: Bish please, it’s been 100 degrees and I’m wearing fur, you’d smell funky too.

Super Cringe: Fair point. Happy Birthday Blanche!

 

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Give me that chicken!

 

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Cheese for the Win!

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Cheese for the Win!

I had to take Blanche to the vet today. For those that don’t know, Blanche is the made up name of my real dog. Things are top secret here at my blog and one can’t be too careful. Getting Blanche to go to the vet is a bit of an ordeal. The problems start when I try to get her in my car. Usually a couple of treats do the trick.

Me (Attempting fake enthusiasm, comes off like a Kindergarten teacher with a massive hangover): Come on Blanche you can do it!

Blanche: Nope

Me: Come on girl, there are two treats in here (holds up a treat, then pats the back of the SUV).

Blanche (yawns, turns head in opposite direction)

Me: Get in here!

Blanche (walks away)

Me (Mutters “bitch”, goes inside. Announces to the hubs that we are at DEFCON Level 3)

Hubs: Want me to get her in there? I can do it, want me to show you?

(For the record, my husband thinks he can do EVERYTHING better than me or anyone else. Most of the time he can, I’m just not interested in his 30 minute tutorial on the perfect inflection to coax the dog into my vehicle. We also have 12 minutes to get to an appointment which is 10 minutes away. So visualize your favorite meme for “Ain’t nobody got time for that!)

Me: No. I know how you do it and I can’t muster up the fake enthusiastic voice. I’m going in for cheese.

Blanche: Did someone say cheese?

Me: (Tosses cheese in the back of the SUV) Get your ass in the car.

Blanche: Alright

It should be noted that Blanche is a 90 pound mutt who turns into a kangaroo dog as soon as we pass the threshold at the vet’s office. I don’t mean one of those cute docile kangaroos that you can actually pet in Australia…no she turns into big red, the roo that will knock your teeth out and put you in a coma. She has a smile on her face the entire time and I’m just blocking the blows like I’m in the ring with Tyson circa 1986. I don’t come out of these visits unscathed, I’m scratched up and broke by the time we leave.

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This is Big Red’s Tinder profile pic.

Fortunately there were no other animals in the waiting area when we arrived. I try to speak to the receptionist while my kangaroo-gorilla-dog bounces up and down like Tigger on cocaine. My eyes convey a cry for help and they usher us to the scale. I find this amusing because 1) It’s my least favorite part of going to the doctor myself. Does anyone like getting weighed in a public space? 2) Getting Blanche to stay still on the scale is worse than trying to get her in the car. It’s like threading a needle with overcooked spaghetti. After several attempts we agree on a number and get directed to an examination room.

Blanche proceeds to lose her ever loving mind in the room when it’s just the two of us. I can only image what the office staff thinks is happening in here. Furniture is being moved, the scraping sound of dog nails on the linoleum…I may have said calm your tits a little too loud. After an infinity a vet and a technician came in to administer her shots and do the exam.

My dog, crazy as she is, becomes surprisingly compliant during the exam. She doesn’t bark, growl or show any indication of her big red ways when there are witnesses. Leaving the staff to think I must enjoy rearranging office furniture while speaking curtly to my dog when no one else is in the room. She got her shots, threw some punches (at me) and we got out of there for the mere cost of a car payment.

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Blanche showing off her lady beard. She resembles a Dr. Seuss creation.

Streeeeeeetch!

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Streeeeeeetch!

A recent conversation with the family mutt, known as Blanche to the blogging world:

Super Cringe: Blanche what are you doing?

Blanche: I’m stretching. I can’t just run outside like I’ve been shot out of a cannon now, I’m in my late 50s.

Super Cringe: Sure, sure, I get that…what is it you need to chase?

Blanche: Are you kidding, don’t you see that thing in the sky? The boy is out there I need to protect him.

Super Cringe: It’s a drone Blanche, the boy is fine, he’s operating it.

Blanche: What kind of wizardry…nope, that flying thing needs to go.

Super Cringe: What are you going to do if you catch it?

Blanche: I think you mean, what am I going to do when I catch it! I dunno sniff it, take a bite, walk around with it in my mouth like a champion drone killer. Let me out, I’m stretched and ready to go!

Super Cringe: (Hand signals to son from the window that a maniac dog is about to be released so he can take precautions) Alright then Blanche, Godspeed.

 

Rub My Belly

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Rub My Belly

For those that are new, Blanche is the made up name of my real dog. I’ve recently introduced her to the Super Cringe series on my blog. Super Cringe is the alter ego of my pen name. I probably should have suggested you take a seat before you tip toe into my thought process, sometimes it gets surprisingly deep in the shallow end. Anyway, if you’re still here, thanks. Here’s a recent conversation:

Blanche: (Super excited greets the family at the door. All 90 pounds of her is wiggling with joy) Oh my God your back! I was so worried, you’ve been gone for like a year, I thought you deserted me.

Super Cringe: I told you we were going away for a few days. We missed you too buddy!

Blanche: WWhaaaat – why do I smell dogs. G-damn it you were with other dogs.

Super Cringe: It’s true we stayed with friends and they have two dogs.

Blanche: (Stands up on back two legs, crosses her front arms in front of her chest) Right and I’m supposed to be OK with that….you should have taken me.

Super Cringe: We can’t take you on a plane, you don’t even like going in the car. Seriously you are the only dog I ever met that doesn’t enjoy sticking her head out the window. What’s up with that?

Blanche: I would have gone on the plane. I could have pulled off the therapy dog thing. I have a sensitive nose the window thing is too much.

Super Cringe: You’re 90 pounds I can’t stick you under the seat in front of me, you aren’t a lap dog.

Blanche: I would be a lap dog, you won’t let me.

Super Cringe: You are 5′ 3″ when you stand on your back legs. I’m pretty sure the cut off for lap dogs is 3′ 6″ on hind legs.

Blanche: That sounds totally made up.

Super Cringe: Maybe…

Blanche: And stop tossing my weight around. Do you want me to start telling everyone how much you weigh?

Super Cringe: I don’t even know what I weigh, how would you know?

Blanche: I know stuff. The squirrel that was eating the molding, he gotten taken out by one of the hawks.

Super Cringe: Really! Wow, what else ya got?

Blanche: The UPS guy has a sinus infection and the neighbors kid was doing laps in our driveway again.

Super Cringe: You are a fountain of knowledge. You want a belly rub?

Blanche: Yeah, I want a belly rub (assumes the belly rub position).

Super Cringe: We cool?

Blanche: Yeah, we’re good, a little to the right.

Super Cringe: (sighs) I wish every relationship was this easy.

 

Good Talk Dog

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Good Talk Dog

The following is an actual made up conversation I recently didn’t have with my dog. She is fiercely private so I will refer to her as Blanche (psst, not her actual name). I wanted to make her fake name Gertrude and then shorten it to Gertie. Then I remembered that Michelle from Rubber Shoes in Hell has a cat named Gertie and that seemed like some kind of weird fake pet name plagiarism. I know Christopher from Freethinkers Anonymous will figure out which Blanche inspired me because he knows things.

I will refer to myself as Super Cringe, my alter ego’s alter ego (FFS this is starting to feel like a wordy math equation), because some days it’s good to have two degrees of separation from your actual life. Today is one of those days.

Blanche: Sleeping curled up on her bed which is close to my desk. Loud snores with the occasional twitchy leg, this is a standard dog nap.

Super Cringe: Pipe down over there you need a CPAP mask or what?

(And here’s the part where I wish I could draw like my friend Lisa McMillen of Cica Lisa Designs who drew my Super Cringe character. Lisa could draw an amazing sketch of my lazy azz dog sleeping with a CPAP mask on and that shit would be hysterical. Sadly you have to use your imagination – 90 pound black labradoodle mutt who looks like something Dr. Seuss created, lots of gray hair on her face…..now go use that imagination!)

Blanche: Dude, I’m so wrecked from all the company this weekend. Do you have any idea how much unauthorized food I ate in the past 37 hours?

(Disclaimer: Chicks from New Jersey use dude for guys & gals and this bitch is from Jersey)

Super Cringe: Well I did get some specifics on the chunks you hurled last night. By the way, two things I need to acknowledge….thanks for puking on the tile and for waiting until I went to bed. Bummer for the hubs though (I high 5 Blanche and wouldn’t a sketch of Super Cringe high-fiving  a funny looking dog with a CPAP mask dangling from her collar be hysterical) but seriously what is the appeal of deer poop?

Blanche: (looks embarrassed) Whaaaat?

Super Cringe: Why do you eat deer poop, it’s got to be disgusting…

Blanche: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Super Cringe: Shows Blanche a pic of the vomit which includes a mass which looks suspiciously like deer poop.

Blanche: Turns her head in shame, talks to the wall. I don’t know, I don’t want to talk about it.

Super Cringe: Alright, well I hope you feel better. I’ll take the scat mat off the couch tonight, just don’t let dad catch you.

Super Cringe and Blanche fist pump each other and Blanche goes back to her nap. Super Cringe leaves to read her favorite Sunday Blog My Dang Blog and has some catching up to do at Redneck Latte Ravings.