A cad is defined as a man (or in this case, dog) who acts with deliberate disregard to another’s feeling or rights. This type of person (or dog) usually knows what is morally acceptable and, most times, acts like a decent enough sort. However, when presented with temptation or exposed to stress, the ruffian returns.
Lately, this is how Grimm has been behaving. And really, I think it’s because he has been watching too many episodes of Breaking Bad. I overheard him telling Charley that he was going to make him his bitch. When he takes his daily dose of ivermectin/liquid vitamin supplement via syringe each day [he’s being treated for demodex], he slurps it down, then he rolls his eyes back in his head and exclaims, “That’s some sweet, pure-ass shit, yo!”. I then tell him to watch his doggy mouth.
Grimm apparently now thinks the life of a methamphetamine cook and dealer “is the bomb”. I told him that those labs frequently turn into bombs and that although I, too, enjoy watching Breaking Bad, I’m not about to let him turn to a life of crime. I don’t think he really paid attention to what we discussed because this is how I found him today:
I asked him what the heck he was doing with my old chemistry book.
“Learning to cook meth, yo. Like Jesse Pinkman and Walter White.”
I don’t think so, my friend. Now I understood why the kitchen cabinets had been raided and the Sudafed was on the counter. He had all the pyrex dishware out and the latex gloves were thrown on the floor. He has been up to no good.
Seriously, though, he has been acting like a big jerk lately–eating mail that he steals off the counter, pestering Charley, bolting out the door when I tell him to stay. He is going through his rebellious stage and has forgotten (temporarily, I hope) all of his good manners. Don’t get me wrong–he can still turn on the charm when he needs or wants something that he is unable to get himself. He has just been…more calculating lately. I told him if he didn’t shape up, I was sending him to boot camp.
For now, he gets no television privileges. He gets crated (i.e., sent to jail) when he acts out and he has to earn every piece of kibble. I’ve been trying to drain some of his excess energy by running him ragged. He’s slowly coming around. He better, if he knows what’s good for him. Charley is getting tired of putting up with his juvenile-delinquent antics. Grimm better watch out–I saw Charley wearing a pork pie hat the other day. Heisenberg may be coming.
I AM the danger! A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!
Grimm's Furry Tail 