Life when you share it with fuzzy faces
Last night was particularly stressful in our home.
I hate to admit it but we still have quite a number of boxes and bags in our back bedroom/office that we have not yet unpacked since the move. We've been going through them slowly but they are still looming there reminding me every time I enter the room that they need to be taken care of. I make this confession because it is central to my story. The back bedroom/office usually stays gated so that the dogs can't get in there and dig around. But we've been on the computer a lot lately and have become lax in putting the gate back up.
Last night during dinner, Sneauball became suspiciously absent from the room. This is not normal behavior for either Sneauball or Sophie because when E and/or I have food they tend to believe it is their appointed task to hover underfoot and whisk away anything that may fall to the floor. So I called to Sneauball and down the hall he came looking guilty. I told him to stay up front with us but he soon disappeared again.
As soon as I finished dinner I went to find the little devil. When I rounded the corner of the hall he came trotting out of the back bedroom with something in his mouth. I cornered him to try to determine what substance he was trying to consume and found that it was a greenie (a dog treat that promotes clean teeth and fresh breath). Ah ha! This was a good thing for two reasons 1) it's usually paper, one of E's earplugs, or some other forbidden substance that he gets into and 2) he'd managed to find the bag of greenies that I've been looking for ever since we moved in. Leave it to Sneauball to find it first. I patted him on the head and thanked him for finding them then went into the bedroom and put them out of reach, giving one to Sophie in the process. These were two little happy dogs. They both ran off to our bed to consume their treats.
Later on E fed them then we all headed off to bed for the night. But at 11 pm the pukefest began. It soon became apparent that the greenie I caught Sneauball with in his mouth was not the only one he'd eaten.
So here we were after 11 pm, cleaning up dog puke, changing the sheets on our bed, and trying to keep Sneauball from soiling the clean sheets. Now that's an aggravating situation for anyone and I'll admit both E and I were grumbling. I ended up sitting up in the bed holding Sneauball in my arms with a towel underneath him until his tummy settled at 1 am. Sometime during this process E threw up his hands and headed off to the computer and in doing so said something that just flabberghasted me. His excuse for bailing was, and I quote, "because he's YOUR dog". What?????? Folks, it's funny this morning but I can assure you that at around midnight last night it was not. I fell asleep before he returned to the bedroom and I dreamed I was mad at him all night long and believe me, I got my revenge. :-)
It was just one of those nights that make you realize that sometimes having dogs is just like having kids and then your realize that it's only sometimes and you're thankful for that.
As I attempted to drag myself out of bed and off to work this morning, darling little Sneauball was none the worse for wear. He was his normal happy, bouncy, tail-wagging little self and I was both thankful and pissed off about it.
I hate to admit it but we still have quite a number of boxes and bags in our back bedroom/office that we have not yet unpacked since the move. We've been going through them slowly but they are still looming there reminding me every time I enter the room that they need to be taken care of. I make this confession because it is central to my story. The back bedroom/office usually stays gated so that the dogs can't get in there and dig around. But we've been on the computer a lot lately and have become lax in putting the gate back up.
Last night during dinner, Sneauball became suspiciously absent from the room. This is not normal behavior for either Sneauball or Sophie because when E and/or I have food they tend to believe it is their appointed task to hover underfoot and whisk away anything that may fall to the floor. So I called to Sneauball and down the hall he came looking guilty. I told him to stay up front with us but he soon disappeared again.
As soon as I finished dinner I went to find the little devil. When I rounded the corner of the hall he came trotting out of the back bedroom with something in his mouth. I cornered him to try to determine what substance he was trying to consume and found that it was a greenie (a dog treat that promotes clean teeth and fresh breath). Ah ha! This was a good thing for two reasons 1) it's usually paper, one of E's earplugs, or some other forbidden substance that he gets into and 2) he'd managed to find the bag of greenies that I've been looking for ever since we moved in. Leave it to Sneauball to find it first. I patted him on the head and thanked him for finding them then went into the bedroom and put them out of reach, giving one to Sophie in the process. These were two little happy dogs. They both ran off to our bed to consume their treats.
Later on E fed them then we all headed off to bed for the night. But at 11 pm the pukefest began. It soon became apparent that the greenie I caught Sneauball with in his mouth was not the only one he'd eaten.
So here we were after 11 pm, cleaning up dog puke, changing the sheets on our bed, and trying to keep Sneauball from soiling the clean sheets. Now that's an aggravating situation for anyone and I'll admit both E and I were grumbling. I ended up sitting up in the bed holding Sneauball in my arms with a towel underneath him until his tummy settled at 1 am. Sometime during this process E threw up his hands and headed off to the computer and in doing so said something that just flabberghasted me. His excuse for bailing was, and I quote, "because he's YOUR dog". What?????? Folks, it's funny this morning but I can assure you that at around midnight last night it was not. I fell asleep before he returned to the bedroom and I dreamed I was mad at him all night long and believe me, I got my revenge. :-)
It was just one of those nights that make you realize that sometimes having dogs is just like having kids and then your realize that it's only sometimes and you're thankful for that.
As I attempted to drag myself out of bed and off to work this morning, darling little Sneauball was none the worse for wear. He was his normal happy, bouncy, tail-wagging little self and I was both thankful and pissed off about it.
posted by BarefootCajun @ 09:37
1 Comments:
At 1:02 PM,
Dixie said…
That goofy Sneuball! He does the scarfing and puking, you do the cleaning and worrying and he's more than happy with that arrangement!
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