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updated: Oct 30, 2010, 10:15 AM
My husband dogs me all the time. He and his boys chill in the crib and slam down forties every night and don't pick up after themselves. On the weekend, he rolls with his bros down to Sandpiper and says he's hitting nine, but always slices to eighteen.
Forget about Sunday! That's when he hangs on the couch, watching pigskins and pounding brewskis. He spends every minute channel surfing so he can track his fantasy football. Then he jacks my ride to go out to ‘Cito for steaks!
Our Dachshund, YoYo, doesn't even recognize him when he's around, and she goes all Cujo and stuff, and then he gets all, "You should call the dog whisperer." He should call the dog whisperer, the dog doesn't bark at me. What should I do?
Dear Dogged Woman,
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Edda Hatte is a loving and sympathetic advice columnist who helps Edhat subscribers navigate through their complicated and stressful lives.
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