Did the Policy Say Acts of God…or Acts of Dog…?

It started with The Magic Window.

Mmmm...tasty...or do I chase these?
Mmmm…tasty…or do I chase these?

After years of completely ignoring Shaun’s Giant Magic Window, Christmas has turned nightly TV watching into a vigorous aerobic exercise affectionately named “Save the Television.”

Bye Bye delightful Couch Potato-hood.

Can we claim we thought our homeowner’s policy stated coverage for “Acts of Dog” before we signed?

Christmas was severely malnourished when he adopted us.  We made the (in hindsight) disastrous decision to provide top quality dog food. His vision dramatically improved. How could this not be good?

Here’s how: he now understands we have a Magic Window.

He’s mesmerized.

I don't know what these things are, but they're in my house.
I don’t know what these things are, but they’re in my house.
Um. Do you not see the problem?  THERE IS A GRIZZLY in our livingroom!
Um. Mom?  Helllllooooo…monster dog in living room!
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What’s happening? Is that a cat? Why is it chasing a ball?
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Weirdest dog fight ever.
Uh. Oh.
HOLY CRAP!!!!
IMG_3979
Giant Seagull. I’ll bark ferociously and attack. Back me up here!

(We barely saved the TV from the eagle incident.)

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This dog is okay. She has puppies in her cave. Puppies good. My mom had soft eyes.

We tried Dog TV, mistakenly thinking he might enjoy watching dogs do stuff.  Disastor. Mega Aerobic Dog Tackling session.  Apparently we are a single dog family.

He has favorite programs:

  •  Anything on the Food Network. (Understandable?)
  • Grey’s Anatomy.
  • The Olympics

It makes me sad he doesn’t like to watch The Big Bang.  It’s my favorite.

There is one thing he loathes above all others:

geico-gecko
The Geico lizard. Copyright: Geico. Most Dangerous Animal on Planet. The only way to peel Christmas away is to turn the TV off first, then tackle.  It’s wrecking havoc on our reflexes.

The other night he woke me up at 3 am to go out.

He didn’t want to use the facilities.  He marched into the living room, plopped down in front of the TV, and turned his head to look at me, both imploring and impatient.

Turn it on please.

It took all I had not to throw the remote at him.  (Afterall, he might learn how to use it.)

I’m afraid he’s going to discover the computer…