Why my dog is an asshole...
Most of you have had the distinct pleasure of knowing me when I adopted Shana (maysherestinpeace - that, by the way, is on purpose and anyone up to date on the Terry Pratchett witch series will know that, right?) and will remember that she did horrible, unspeakable things like eat shoes and underwear; steal Thanksgiving turkeys; eat birth control pills; get in the trash (a lot); eat a tube of citrus face wash; eat fireworks and she got sprayed right in the face by a skunk. Oh, and she puked on a boyfriend once. Hee hee!
Normally Esme doesn't give us this kind of trouble but she seems to be channeling Shana's spirit these days and I'm seriously about to ship her off to the monkey house. She's been counter surfing and has pulled down a big loaf of irish bread, eaten half a bag of pizza cheese and one half of a ball of raw pizza dough (that one there cost us $325 in emergency vet bills, god) and on Friday we came home to discover she had managed to open the cabinets where the trash is kept and pulled out the trash can and all of it's contents and spread it throughout the kitchen and living room. She had gone after some chicken fat leftover from cooking off chicken for her behavioral training (might I add that this dog gets to eat organic chicken. Little rotter) that I wrapped in paper towels, wrapped in a plastic bag and placed in the bottom of the trash can. Not only did she eat the chicken fat-covered paper towels but she ate that little absorbent pad thingy from the bottom of the chicken packaging. That thing is wrapped in plastic and I'm pretty sure she ate some of it in the process.
I can't even begin to describe how pissed I was at this dog. Instead of having a date night with my dear husband, we spent the evening mopping the kitchen floor and steam cleaning our living room rug. Then we locked the little bugger in her crate and went out for Indian food and a trip to T@rget. So far she's passed the paper towels and we're keeping a close eye on her for any obstruction but I have to say: it's a good thing she's so cute or I swear I'd have FedEx-ed her back to Sarah, her foster person in Ohio.
2 comments:
I am so sorry to hear of this, but thank you for gifting me with a new phrase to use on the cats: "little rotter." Although on my brood, I might have to dub each of them "big-ass rotter."
Oh god, I totally remember Shana eating the birth control pills. Dogs are crazy.
My mom loves to tell the story about how Puddles (maysherestinpeace) once ate more than a third of her body weight in Godiva chocolate, which had been at the bottom of my aunt's closed but unzipped suitcase after a trip to Las Vegas... on a chair, under a pile of clothes, in a box, wrapped in that plastic that humans have trouble getting off. Anyway, the vet was supremely unconcerned and just said to watch her. She showed absolutely no sign of trouble and ate dinner as normal a few hours later. Again, dogs are crazy, although I'd go for Godiva over the weird pad thing at the bottom of the chicken package too.
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