What now?

Sorry...it's been too long.  But it's the same stuff....put a teenager with raging hormones and mood swings that rival a Catholic church pendulum and mix with a 4-year-old's understanding of the world and you've got my life in a nutshell. 

Dogs...why oh why did I get dogs?  Bek moved out with the last dog and it was such a pleasure to empty my lint trap in my dryer to find only lint and not balls of dog hair.  Here I am again creating new species with the amount of dog hair I'm cleaning.  Our Shetland, Lily, has beautiful fur, but it's super fine and makes the Chihuahua's shedding seem null and void.  Case in point:  Kindsay has decided that Lily is her dog since the Chihuahua, Pee Wee, is a male and Lily is a female.  The boys then claim Pee Wee, of course.  So Lily has had the fun of sleeping in Kindsay's room with all the delightful smells and dirty clothes and trash strewn about (it gets cleaned regularly, but one whip through her room and it's a hoarder's palace)...Lily then has been shedding her fur all over Kindsay's room.  Kindsay gets to destroy my home, suck my diet sodas down like a flushed toilet, and wipe out our food at 2 AM prompt daily, but heaven forbid a dog sheds in her room.  And TRUST me, Lily is held there against her will.  Kindsay cradles her like a baby and Lily always has this look on her face like "help me"...Kindsay likes to hold Lily down in the tub and wash her with waterless shampoo (OK that is annoying because she uses ALL my clean towels and I purposely bought WATERLESS shampoo to avoid to no avail.)  After Lily's delightful bath Kindsay decides to groom her.  Yeah...not good.  Lily has beautiful fluffy white fur...you just want to roll in it it's so soft, and Kindsay took a pair of regular scissors and cut it.  So poor Lily, as lovely as she was, had to walk around with a major hack job...it's barely growing out.  Don't cross Kindsay, even unwittingly.
But Kindsay doesn't torture the dogs..she tortures me.  Imagine waking in the morning..day dawn is breaking, birds singing, a good stretch feels good.  I go to the bathroom to use the commode and jump back startled to find a mountainous blanket.  Under is Kindsay going to the bathroom.  Most of us just close the door.  It takes a few angles to adjust to the picture, but it looks like Cousin It using my toilet.  Freaky.  On top of that when I inquired as to who, what, why...I got no response.  She at least refrained from getting the down blanket in the toilet and did flush it, which she frequently neglects...gotta give her props for that.  Nothing like an early morning scare.