I grow increasingly concerned for my sanity.

There are times, usually late at night, that I lie awake musing about how I got to where I am now.  Five years ago I adopted a small, rather mangy, unobtrusive little dog that caused no trouble other then her plethora of health issues, which, on a daily basis take food from our very mouths.  “That is it” I swore.  “No more”.  Ha ha!  If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.

I now sit, at 10.47pm on a Monday night contemplating my situation.  How is it, I ask, that I have only now snuck out of a bedroom populated by four dogs and one very tolerant man?  That answer is yet to strike me. 

How is it that from one, albeit unhealthy specimen, I am now surrounded by a myriad of neurosis that would make your most colourfully populated psych ward seem tame? 

This evening, although it is very much my fault, another monkey joined The Banana Republic.  The Banana Republic has to be referred to in capital letters, you see, it is not so much a name as a state of mind.  The Banana Republic is my pack. 

Said pack consists of Lilly, the unobtrusive, yet riddled with health issues alpha.  She is the one that stops this entire situation from dissolving into anarchy.  She rules the roost with stiff and formal legs and a fair yet firm resolve.  She averages around a million years old and is currently loosing her teeth.  Her dicky frame strikes undying respect into the hearts of Jacob and Julius.  Jacob (Riley) and Julius (Travis) are the second and third most senior in the ranks.  Somehow, the only male in the group has ended up at the bottom of the totem pole.  Ah, Travis.  Slightly stupid, who are we kidding, monumentally stupid.  He is alternately reffered to as Zoolander and Uncle Fester.  Travis is gorgeous to look at, but unfortunately, not much use to man nor beast.  Sweet thought.

Riley, the diabolical second in command.  Somehow, at 6 months old she had secured the position as Beta.  She has earned that right through pure Diva’dom.  She has been known to throw tantrums 5 miles wide.  I am currently convinced that if some aweful fate were to befall Lilly this household would very soon be under the tyrannical grips of a Riley led coup that would surely lead us all to our doom, probably involving copious amounts of tennis balls and yapping at Hardedaas. 

Which leads me to my fourth slip of control.  Sally.  Sally belongs to my mother.  She adopted her three days ago at my urging.  So, as is my responsibility, I have taken her.  She is a total and utter mess.  She has neurosis Freud would battle to decipher.  Someone, somewhere, if there is a fair higher power, is going to die of slow and painful bum cancer for what they did to her.  She is a one year old Border Collie who has clearly never known a kind hand in her life.  So begins the musing of a mad woman.  This is my blog to decide where exactly my mind booked a one way ticket to??  I shudder to think what will happen if Riley gets over her Diva tantrum about a bitch of similar age muscling in on her territory and actually turns her to the dark side!  Will Sally comply and listen to her plans of revolt and mutiny?  Or will she side with the benign and sweet Travis?  What of Lilly’s role in this madness?  Will she hold onto her position of supreme power or dodder deeper into the senility that is enveloping her increasingly feeble mind!

Stay tuned folks, this is sure to be a bumpy ride.

Again, why have I done this to myself????  

With a grin like this, one can only imagine the carnage!