Friday, October 21, 2011

Hindsight is 20/20

So, perhaps it wasn't the WISEST idea to get another dog when the one we have is out of control.  

But we were completely enthralled and hence, snookered, by the adorable litter of German Shepherd puppies that smelled as sweet as a newborn baby.

And to be honest,  we weren't really 100% aware that the dog we already owned was out of control, either.  

We were too distracted by the destructive three year old who reminds me of the Tasmanian Devil.

Ragnar's rotten behavior was pointed out by the trainer we hired to come and help us "train" our new German Shepherd puppy, Thora.  

This is Thora

The trainer had a litany of woes he bestowed upon us.

Because of the bad fortune we endured during his three visits to our house to "train our dogs," we ended the training sessions early.  Because here is how it all went down:

  • He missed the initial consultation  by an entire hour.    During his visit,  Maggie managed to dump out 1/3 of a gallon of paint on the bathroom floor and track footprints on the carpet and leave handprints on walls and paintings all over the second floor of our house.  

  • Although I believe that our family would be incredibly difficult to forget after this, indeed he did.  The second training session was a no-show.  Our existence was off the radar and he didn't even realized that he had missed it until the next day.    

  • #3.  He showed up on time and it was just Maggie and me.   When I thought she was quietly watching Caillou (the little turd himself; I hate that show) she was smearing the contents  underwear all over our bedroom wall.   
I am big into "signs" and I believe that all of these occurrences were the sign to find another trainer, lest someone burn the house down on his fourth through eighth training sessions.  

He also pointed out our shabby furniture (asked if the dogs had done it).    No, he wasn't coming back.

I believe that having a puppy is a lot like having a newborn in that you forget how difficult it is to actually have one in your house until you get it home and then listen to it squeal all night long.  

German Shepherds are reportedly smart dogs, but I am not sold on this.   

She whines quite often about nothing and is still pissing in the house.  Not as frequently as in the beginning, but more than any other puppy we have ever owned.  

She is still sneaking to a preferred corner in my bedroom and crapping on the floor.  She has to be watched like a hawk because she has showed a deference to being able to swipe food out of the garbage.   

She has chewed up an acoustic guitar pick-up, an Apple laptop charger, and the appendages off of various toys and action figures that were unfortunate enough to be left in her wake.  

And did I mention that we introduced an exchange student into the mix?

I mostly think he believes that we are out of our minds.   He's from Spain and likes Target and Lady Gaga a lot.  

Because I am trying to create a facade of a bit of normality for him (and for the fam, of COURSE), I have been stellar in making dinner every night.  Which has caused me to add a little more poundage.   Because HELLOOOOO seconds, and sometimes thirds.      

I'm going to have to get cracking with the exercise and diet, because this was me last weekend.  In the hospital with chest pains.  

This was at 2 a.m., mind you. 

I honestly thought that they would look at me and send me home.  But no.  They had me stay.   

Although I was hooked up to machines that monitored every little blip of my body and had to pee in a bedside toilet, I became very excited about the food that was brought to me.  IN MY ROOM!  IN MY BED!  I could eat in bed and not be hassled about it by Chris.  It was pretty fantastic.  

I was sent home, however, to the dogs.  Who have new delights that include ~ but are not limited to ~ digging holes in my flowers and ignoring me when I call them.   

And home to the children.  Who are crazy and funny and disgusting all at the same they stick their fingers up their noses and then stick them up their noses before I get a chance to stop them.  

But how can you resist Batgirl?  And a girl who plays super hero instead of Barbies.  And who hits hard and plays rough.  And who is teaching Thora, the German Shepherd, true tolerance.  

I love this family.