Monday Samday...

The wiener dog has apparently decided that he is the almighty watch pup of my apartment lately. Every time we walk out the door to go potty he boldly announces his presence to the outside world by barking the entire way down the stairs, bouncing butt and all.

Have you ever seen Shrek the Third? The part at the beginning where Prince Charming is all galantly riding in on a horse like he's something special and announcing that he's gonna take over Far Far Away and kill Shrek? Yeah. Sam is Prince Charming. Complete with the fake horse on a stick and I'm-better-than-you attitude.

Well yesterday, he just outdid himself. I turn the key to walk in the house right as some upstairs neighbors are coming down. I swear it took less than a half-second for it to happen. I turned the knob, opened the door and he flung his long, fat little body at least four feet out the door and went after these sweet people. I'm on the phone with my mom, and I might've said a swear word before I hung up on her, but I can't remember and she didn't mention it, so I'm gonna pretend it didn't happen. I literally drop my Blackberry (sin sin sin) and go running after my rabid and snarling dog so he won't scare the wits out of the people that I must share a building with for at least 4 more months.

I swear.

I apologized over and over and thankfully they were kind of nervously laughing about the whole situation. Whether it was initial shock of it all or the fact that a dog the size of a loaf of french bread just thought he could take them, I have no idea.

For me, though, it was traumatizing. My heart was racing and I'm all huffy and puffy when I get back inside. Then he looks at me with a face like this, and with eyes that say "I'm really sorry, Mom, I was just trying to protect you from the evil intruders," and I can't be mad at him anymore.

Even though I do remind him that Shrek conquers Prince Charming at the end of the movie, so he needs to rethink his priorities.