When our youngest was born, life quickly became chaotic and overwhelming. I wonder why it is that the third child always throws things into such a tumult. I suppose it is because, as parents, we were outnumbered. I think my husband fully believes that it is merely OUR children who are more intense, more destructive ... well, just MORE than other children. At that point, it was clear that a dog was out of the question.
Why we didn't stick with that assessment? I don't know. We began to promise them that once the baby was out of diapers, we'd make good on our promise. If only we could turn back the hands of time. True, the dog was already potty trained and crate trained (a blessing). True, he's a beautiful dog. It is also true that I had been wanting a Goldendoodle ever since I saw a stunning specimen at one of my ES's soccer games 4 or 5 years ago. Supposedly, the poodle part of them meant that they didn't shed.
LIES! All lies! This dog sheds like crazy. If I were a more diligent housekeeper, it wouldn't be as noticeable. However, I'm not and we see lots of hairs ... on furniture, on clothing, and in clumps on the floor.
More than anything, it is the dog's need for outside time that causes us the most distress. Since we live on a country road where cars whiz by at 50 mph sometimes, at first we only let the dog out on the leash attached to a chain in the front yard. However, once snow was part of the equation, we began letting him out first thing in the morning and last thing at night without the leash. At first, he stayed nearby, but it didn't take long before he was wandering all over and not coming back when called. Once, he returned chewing some kind of dead animal - possibly a bat. Thus, we went back to requiring a leash at all times outside.
Yesterday, I attached the chain to a post on our front porch, thinking this way we wouldn't even have to go out the door to let him out. Last night, I attached him to his leash and let him head out to do his final business of the day. I quickly seized a moment to brush my teeth. When I returned, I discovered that THE DARNED DOG had dug a huge hole in the mulch (landscaping) right next to the porch. He was no doubt trying to get to a ground squirrel or something.
His snout was covered in dirt and mulch. His feet were atrocious. The front porch was speckled with the dirt he kicked up behind him. I was irritated beyond words! (It didn't help that earlier in the day, the little boys had taken apart my papasan chair and the dog had chewed the wood almost to shreds!)
And to think that a few weeks ago, I asked MS to snap a photo of me and the dog because I thought someone might answer our ad in the paper and decide they wanted to buy the dog from us. HA! Then, as the photo began to rotate on our screen saver, I realized that 1) it is an awful photo, and 2) it fully supports that theory that dogs and owners tend to look alike. Yikes! At least my eyes don't get that vacant glow!
Actually, a few weeks back, it became clear that we could have spared ourselves all of this trouble if only my two littlest boys would have discovered their latest game just a few months sooner. Lately, they have taken to pretending that two of their toy containers are pets. MS wove his rubber snake through the holes in the box and began dragging him everywhere, calling him "Boxie." YS, who has to parrot everything MS does, quickly begged me to weave a snake through a box for him.
They walk their boxes. They pretend to feed the boxes. I'm a big fan of the "Boxie" game. Boxie doesn't smell, shed hair, get dirty, eat Christmas ornaments, puke them up again, cost an arm and a leg, or require any outside duties (or PRMs!).
Here's a brief video of the boys and their carefree pets (I pray for the day when these are their only pets!). At the end, I ask them if their pets are messy and YS tries to tell me that his poops. I cut the video short, but he did explain by dumping over the box so the toys all tumbled out. Somehow, I think I could deal with that kind of poopin' all day long!
2 comments:
If the neighbors don't mind his roaming, I don't really see the problem with the dead animals. Our labs drop their present on the deck and we just shovel/scoop it into the trash/woods. They're always very proud of themselves. Lab blood = hunting. And did you know poodles were bred as one of the first hunting dogs? They can be taught to point about as easily as a setter.
Unless you can catch him red handed digging, there's not much to do about that one. Maybe some other kind of distraction. He's probably just bored because I'm assuming a playmate is out of the question.
Liz - Ha! LOL! and clutching my heart. Yes, a playmate is out of the question. Since he is still a puppy, we worry about him roaming the property because he could get hit by a car or cause an accident.
As for the digging, I did catch him red-handed and scolded and swatted his snout three times saying "BAD DOG!" If we end up keeping this dog, we are going to have to get him in obedience classes.
I've been listening to the book, "Marley and Me," and laughing out loud - so much easier to laugh when it is someone else's dog.
Post a Comment