lies, damned lies and why I refuse to be a part of them

The Lodger(tm) remains, on the condition that the dogs go away. Yeah, that's the ticket. But how do we get rid of the dogs? By lying, of course.

Shortly after The Lodger moved in (with no dogs and no mention that dogs might come into the picture), I was sitting next to Lisa as she spoke with somebody on the phone about the new living arrangement. The first word out of my mouth after she uttered the word "dogs" was "no". I foresaw nothing but trouble; trouble is what we got.

And now, the easiest way that Lisa and The Lodger can come up with for getting rid of his old beloved dogs is to call the dog catcher and lie through our teeth (oops - I mean report them as strays).

I told so many lies, large and small, during my lifetime of addiction that I refuse to engage in overtly deceptive behaviors such as the classic "little white lie." One lie begets another. Lie about subject A and you need to invent story B to explain plan C, which depends upon a web of deception.

I have refused to take the initiative to get rid of the dogs - the ones I said "no" to before they even arrived - since I did not want them here in the first place. Early on I exclaimed that "I'm not putting two old, leaky dogs in my new car" to take them to the pound. Evidently that means that lies have to be told in order to get the dogs out of here.

So, in a nutshell: somebody has to call the dog catcher and spin a tale of how these two ancient dogs "don't live in the neighborhood, but have been hanging around for a while and will not leave." Then the story will no doubt become more complex, to explain the holes that they have dug and the chains that have been keeping the "strays" in our yard. Since I've never been able to spin fanciful tales on demand and tend to get caught in the simplest of lies, I will be hiding in the house when and if the dog catcher arrives. I don't want to have to answer any questions or even nod or shake my head to signal agreement or disagreement. Lisa likes to talk. Let her lie her ass off to public officials. I won't do it.

Fuck. Now I feel like I should just suck it up and put the slobbering, semi-continent dogs in my car and drive them out to the pound, aka "Route 41". Bit of a moral bind I find myself in by refusing to lie, but that's my life. I am here to service others, be they human, feline or canine. My opinion is ostensibly valued but routinely ignored.

Changing the subject: This morning I awoke to a new and powerful pain in my right knee. It feels like an internal injury but I did nothing to stress the joint recently. Took some ibuprofen and am hoping for the best. Rocko will be disappointed that I can't take him for a walk.