I thought earlier, “You know, it’s been a while since I wrote a warm fuzzy entry on how much I love motherhood and how my life is all roses and bon-bons.” So, as any good blogger would do, I sat down at my laptop, hands ready to type out The Sweetest Entry Ever when the dog crapped on my carpet. I’ll repeat that. I was trying to be warm and fuzzy and the damn dog *CRAPPED on my carpet.
Warm fuzzies gone. Xanax moment arrives.
Later, I decide “Hey, he’s just a puppy. He can’t help it. It’ll get better.” So, out comes the laptop. I have totally lost the Sweetest Entry Ever feeling, but I can muster up Gee, I Love My Life (Most of the Time) feelings. And the dog decides that would be a good time to *CRAP on my carpet.
Loving My Life gone. Xanax thrown back with a tequila shot moment arrives.
The dog now thinks his name is either Dammit Dog or PITA-Mo-Fo. (Sorry, Dad. At least I didn’t say it outright. I’ll go wash my mouth out with soap. And by soap of course I mean tequila.)
Internet, I am begging. I am pleading. I am throwing myself at the immense knowledge that you wonderfully awesome people have.
I need your best dog training advice. The best books? The best methods? The way you did it that was successful? The best tequila and cheapest Xanax if you don’t know any of those. This dog and I are at a standstill. I want SO BADLY to bond with him (I actually typed bong first. Maybe that is the answer.) It is hard to bond with something that craps on your floor everytime you turn your back.
Oh, and did I mention that while I was cleaning up the CRAP, Gabriella decided it would be a great time to color ALL OVER her arms and hands with a marker. After all the cleaning and stress it looked like a good idea so I tried it too. Really theraputic, my friends.
*And yes, the dog was in the room with me the whole time. He just went to the one corner that I can’t see him and then behind the couch. Do you know how much it will push me over the edge to OCDville if I have to keep an eye on this dog every damn second of every damn day?! WACKO me. That’s right. Crazy. Insane. Out of my every loving mind. I’m just saying…
Oh, and to add salt to the wounds of my day, I was driving home and saw this message on a vet’s sign. MOCKING ME!
If you can’t read it, it says: “Whoever said you can’t buy happiness forgot puppies.” I beat the sign to smitherines with a baseball bat.