I’m Sorry I Got the Dog Hooked on Coffee

Maxhole the dog and me are going through coffee withdrawals.  I’m cranky and have no energy and he’s running into walls and carrying his favorite toy Frieda the Frog with a look on his face like his best friend went and played tag on the freeway.  I shared my tea with him this morning but we looked at each other, sighed and telepathically agreed that tea, even with 5 tablespoons of raw sugar, is no substitute for an iced coffee.

It all started when I went to the grocery store to buy butter and saw the most beautiful thing I had ever seen: iced coffee.  Okay, I knew iced coffee existed but I was just going to Starbuck’s and getting a ridiculously priced caramel Frappuccino and sucking it down so fast I got back and brain freeze.  I’m not particularly fluent in math but that smart lizard part of my brain that sometimes pays attention to the world told me “If you buy a gallon of caramel macchiato it’ll be cheaper than Starbuck’s.  Waaaaaaaaaaay cheaper.”  And in the beginning it was cheaper and I didn’t have to interact with the frizzy haired barista who acts like it’s coming out of her paycheck when I ask for a tall straw. 

But then I was going to the store every other day to buy more coffee.  Meanwhile, Maxhole the dog introduced himself to a new vice.  I went into the kitchen and came back out to find him with his head stuck in my coffee mug, going to town on the tiny smidgen of coffee on the rim.  He gave me what I can only describe as I’d-do-anything-for-you face: his eyes big and pleading, his muzzle resting against my leg.  So I poured a little into a saucer and we shared.  That would’ve been fine but I would forget my mug on the coffee table and come back to find it tipped over and cleaner than it’s ever been from the dishwasher.  Maxhole the dog doesn’t know how to be sneaky.  That’s why I want to get a cat.  Cats are sneaky and guilt free.  Max needs to learn the cold aloofness of a cat.  A cat would tip your coffee mug over, sniff at it and then look at you as if to say “I didn’t do it, asshole.  Stop looking at me like that.”  There’s usually coffee all over his nose and almost up to his eyes.

Buying all that iced coffee is an expensive habit.  And fattening.  And wonderful.  And expensive.  My hours at the library have been cut.  Iced coffee will be out of my reach for awhile.  It’s going to be hard enough coming up with money for my bills let alone a gallon of iced coffee.  So Maxhole and I have a couple more days until my hours are chopped.  I have just enough money in my checking account for gas and coffee.  And when Maxhole me run out of coffee we’ll switch to bourbon.  But I suspect he might be a mean drunk.


I bought two bottles of Starbuck’s Mocha coffee at Rite Aid.  Almost $3 a piece.  I got home, popped one open and took a sip, ready to bask in the comforting depression fighting elixir that is coffee with a shitload of sugar in it.  I took another drink.  What the fuck?  It tasted weird.  But at almost $3 a bottle I’m not about to waste it.  I poured some into a small saucer for Maxhole.  He took a few licks and looked at me like “What the shit is this?”

“I know, dude, I know.”

The dog and I have made do with tea all this week but it just isn’t the same.  So I broke down today and bought more coffee, promising myself that this would be the last time I could afford it.  I got it home, poured a mug for me and a little for Max and then we watched TV.  I sipped and watched Medium on Netflix and Maxhole sat in front of me with his saucer in his mouth, waving it around to get my attention.  I think the coffee might be kicking in because he has the look of a dog who is going to try to run on the ceiling.

PETA would probably say I was abusing my dog by giving him coffee.  Believe me, he’s much nicer to be around when he’s had is coffee and a cigarette.


About jkhughes2

I'm fat and I hate my job. Well kinda. Kinda on both of those. I love to read and work in a library where they don't let me read. But as long as I get to be around books I'm happy. I once wanted to be a writer and then realized that I'm too lazy to write a book but not too lazy to write a blog. And blogging is like keeping a journal except my posts are the equivalent of verbal diarrhea. And oh yeah. I have really low self-esteem. I have a dog named Max but I call him Maxhole. He's the first dog I've ever had. I find his daily life way more interesting than mine or most people I know. That's about it. I hate politics and computer books. I secretly wish I was Doctor Who but can't remember if that's "was" or "were." Now that's it.
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