Here am I, baking and cooking like a fiend for Artie's Meet The Puppy Party tomorrow. I made Monkey Bread in Margie's Mississippi Mud Pot, yummy and easy. (Thanks to my MIL!)
Marty helped me make Chocolate Chip cookies and my sister's recipe for Peanut Butter and Jelly Brownies. I made spaghetti and cheese (didn't have any macaroni) and two kinds of bite-sized chicken, one with an Apple-Cranberry-Maple sauce. I'm NOT saying this to brag about my culinary skills but just to set the scene.
While I am in the middle of this prep, sauteing, baking and cooking crap, I hear...
Now the last time I had a puppy was Elke in 2008. Her thing was fabric, so you'd heard that awful fabric rending sound. "Rippppp!" and find something disemboweled or torn apart. The last time I had a Cattledog puppy was Druid (Keltoi's Burning Man, winger's litter-mate) in 1999. he was a stealth chewer. He could be tethered to me and I would never hear him chewing on the wooden leg of the table I was sitting at. I damn near killed him when he destroyed a very rare first edition of a book called YANKEE STRANGER.
There are now in this narrative, by this time, a sh*tload of people who are starting to chuckle. Especially the ACD people. You all know what's next.
I look into the den (where the dogs are) expecting to see two sweetly sleeping dogs on various pieces of furniture. No, I couldn't be that lucky. Artie is sitting in the middle of the floor amidst the leftovers of not one but TWO library books.
Oh, yes, and to top another joyous aspect of this little bugger....he is a major sh*t eater. A charming habit that is almost never broken. Oh, yes, and while this chaos is going on, I hear: "Skitter-skitter-skitter" of cat claws across the floor. Somehow Dink and Envy had gotten out of their room and were having a rumpus with Rufus. Sh*t!!! So I've got chicken periously close ot burning, a dog who has annihilated two expensive library books and wants to continue and also needs to potty and I am going to need to herd cats.
"Marty!" says I feeling rather guilt ridden that I have to as him for help. he works hard and he normally doesn't have to help with this aspect; he does other stuff fabulously!
I sure as hell that someday I'll look back on this as I gaze at my wonderful, sweet, balanced, socially adept, accomplished boy Cattledog and think, "Man, it was all worth it."
Right now, you laugh because crying or killing your poop-eating Destructo Dog in probably not in the cards....I know it's not his "fault." i was a trusting fool. I should know much better. this ain't my first rodeo. I sure hope this will get better. Because right now I'm wondering how much I had to drink When I thought about getting him or if someone spiked my milk.... Gayle, Jen, you know who you are.
Won't it? OK, you can all stop laughing now!
Don't let those innocent faces fool you.