Locked Out

It has been a rough few months for me.  I have had to learn to adapt to the fact that I won't have a daily mid-day visitor now that Sister no longer works in town and can't come home for lunch.  Sure, I get a lot of uninterrupted naps now and I did score that air conditioner last month to keep me cool in the summer months, but I must admit that I get a little upset when I think about my family leaving me each morning. As a result, I've become rather clingy in the morning and make every effort to delay my family by sniffing every last tree, telephone pole, and fire hydrant on my morning walks with Pa, demanding extended ear rubs from Sister and, well, then there is my most recent tactic for delaying Ma.

Pa and Sister had already left for work, so I was home alone with Ma.  I had been closely following her around the house for the last ten minutes or so and could sense that she was just about ready to leave as well.  I didn't want this to happen, so I came up with a sure-fire way of delaying her.  As Ma tried to leave the house, I pushed by her and scurried out the door before she could stop me.  As I ran into the backyard, I heard Ma sigh and go back into the house to drop off her bags.  She emerged a moment later with the intent of coaxing me back inside.

After much persuasion (including begging and promises of bribery), Ma convinced me to go back inside the house.  Hungry for a treat, but disheartened all the same, I scurried back to the side door and waited patiently for Ma to open it for me.  She grasped the handle and pushed down on the lever.

Only, it didn't budge; the storm door had locked itself when it slammed shut behind her.

Ma tried the door a couple of more times, but to no avail.  Then she went to the front door with the vague hope of it having been left unlocked.  Failure again.  She thought about who had a key.  In the past, Ma could have borrowed Sister's key by walking over to her job a few blocks away, but now she (and Pa for that matter) were too far away to reach by foot.  And calling someone for help was out of the question too; Ma's cell phone was locked inside the house as well.

Truth be told, I was happy about this predicament.  The way I saw it, Ma would have to stay home (or rather, just outside home) with me until Pa or Sister returned eight hours later.  The bummer would be that all my snacks were inside, but I was willing to ignore my stomach for a fun filled afternoon with Ma.  Happy, I offered Ma a tail wag.  Annoyed, Ma swatted at a mosquito. 

After a minute or so, Ma came up with a new course of action.  She was going to have to break into the house.  Around back she went with me right on her heals.  Methodically, she began working on her bedroom window, cutting away a corner of the screen.  When the hole was big enough and just as she was preparing to hoist her way up and through, Ma looked back into the yard to see what I was up to.  She did not appreciate what she saw.

My Contribution to the Cause

I had decided to help the cause by digging a tunnel into the basement from the backyard.  Sure, the place I chose to started digging from was clear across the yard from the house, but I had every intention of eventually making my way toward the goal.  Honest!

Anyway, like I said, Ma did not particularly appreciate my help (so ungrateful) and came running over to shoo me away from my hole (which was now quite deep). I wandered away long enough for her to return to the window and hoist her way half way through, but once her back was turned and her attention diverted, I returned to my hole.

Once inside, Ma unlocked the door.  She then returned to the backyard, my leash in hand, only to discover me still furiously digging.  When she pulled me out of my hole by my collar, I looked up at her with an innocent "oh, you got inside" look, but she wasn't fooled.  Worse than not being fooled, she was also angry; she was late for work, there was a hole in the window screen, the garden was once again dug up, and I was covered in dirt.  On went my leash and I was unceremoniously escorted back into the house.

Figuring that it was best to give Ma some space, I immediately scurried upstairs and out of sight.  Anticipating trouble, however, Ma followed afterward to make sure I wasn't ripping up clothing or chewing on a pair of shoes.  I was insulted by this lack of faith (she acts like I have a history or something), but decided it wasn't the best time to show my displeasure.  Instead, I wagged my tail at her when she reached the head of the stairs then settled down for my nap.

Feeling Sick, Seeking Comfort, Then Feeling Better

Hello!

Ever since I was a little puppy, I've been troubled by a weak intestinal system.  As a result, every six to twelve months I'm overcome with an upset stomach which requires a round or two of antibiotics and a couple of uncomfortable days and nights punctuated with multiple trips outdoors at odd hours before it clears up.

Because I have such a nice family, they always do their best to try to make me feel better during these bouts (and let me tell you, I am pretty miserable when I've got tummy troubles).  For instance, either Ma or Pa camps out in the living room with me each night I feel ill to facilitate quick access to the outside door, Sister curls up on my pillow with me during the day and gently rubs my tummy while I snooze, and then there is the classic game of "No Mess In Here" which, as traumatizing as the occasional discovery of a "mess in here" is, is, I must admit, a rather enjoyable game.

Anyway, on Wednesday afternoon I came down with my latest bout of intestinal distress and as a result, I had to roust Pa at 4am on Thursday morning to visit the restroom.  Neither Pa nor I was very happy about wandering around outside at that hour of the morning, but Pa was a good sport and did his best to comfort me while I did what I had to do.

Once I was done, Pa and I returned to the house.  While Pa put away my leash and locked the door, I scurried back into the bedroom to continue sleeping.  I didn't expect to sleep soundly though.  You see, when I scurried back into the bedroom, I didn't simply settle down on my pillow or assume my normal spot blocking the doorway.  No, I jumped up onto the bed, curled up in Pa's spot, and squeezed my eyes closed, hoping to fool him into believing I was alseep (you know, "let sleeping dogs lie").  I heard Pa walk into the bedroom and pause beside the bed.  Expecting to be roused from my comfy spot, I immediately went limp knowing that the humans have trouble moving me when I'm dead weight.  But Pa did something strange.  He climbed into bed next to me.  Having suddenly become aware that I was not going to be getting the heave-ho, I sighed and fell asleep. 

Crushed Grass

It is now a few days later, and I am feeling much better (Ma took me to the vet on Thursday afternoon and I now have a two-week supply of medicine and a blood test confirming that my small intestines naturally harbor a heightened number of bacteria).  I felt so good that I spent the weekend out east mooching cookies with Bruno and barking at a squirrel that climbed a tree outside my window and shook its butt at me for a solid minute).  And when I got home, I rolled around in the grass with abandon (the grass, overdue for a mowing, got a little crushed).

It's nice to feel better.

Boys' Night Out

A couple of weeks ago, Pa and I got to do some quality father/son bonding out east.  Sure, we were actually there because Pa had scheduled a repair man to fix a leak and Ma, Sister, and Aunt B would be joining us a few days later, but until then, we would have a couple of epic boys' nights out.

Here are some highlights from our adventures:

• Joint Investigation:  The morning after he and I arrived out east, Pa accompanied me outside to do a thorough search of the backyard.  Upon setting foot on the grass, I immediately realized that there had been an interloper in my yard.  What it was, I wasn't sure (maybe a bear or a dinosaur or a giant antelope or maybe that stupid cat I cornered a few years ago), but I tracked whatever belong to the scent to the side door.  And do you know what?  Pa was right by my side the entire time; following me as I followed the smell (Pa's nose isn't as good as mine--not to mention, with him walking on two legs, his nose is way too far away from the scent covered ground to have any real success).  He even helped me look for the interloper by searching behind the big bushes that flank the back door.  Sadly, we didn't find anything.
• Deck Repair:  While Pa pulled up damaged planks on our deck and replaced them with brand new ones, I helped by carrying around bits of wood and supervising (obviously).  Pa said that I was especially helpful in that I refrained from falling through any of the holes he created.  I found this a tad insulting, but for the sake of our boys only event, I let it go.  I would have liked to carry around some of Pa's tools as well, but most were too heavy or awkwardly shaped for me to pick up (hey, you try picking up a miter saw with your mouth!).
• Breakfast:  One morning, Pa went out to the local deli to buy breakfast.  When he got home, he called me over and told me that he had a surprise for me.  From his plate, he gave me what he called "deer sausage." Now, I'm certainly no expert on deer (I've only smelled them through the back fence after all), but I am a self-proclaimed connoisseur of food and I'm willing to bet that Pa's "deer sausage" was actually breakfast sausage.  No matter, though.  Breakfast or deer, sausage is sausage and I ate it happily.
• Bruno:   Pa has set the precedent that every time he's around when Bruno (the Boxer pup next door) and I meet at the fence separating our properties he gives us a cookie as a reward for being such good boys.  Well, needless to say Bruno and I agreed, early on, to play Pa for all the cookies we could and made sure to meet at the fence every chance we got.  And do you know what?  Pa fell for the plan nearly every time.  I can't tell you how many cookies Bruno and I ate.  Yum!
• Curfew:  When Ma's around, she insists that I go out at 10pm for my last business trip.  Now this might not sound horrible, except for the fact that I usually call it a night at 8pm.  Think about how you would feel if you were unceremoniously woken up after two hours of sound sleep and forced outside in all types of weather to do business.  Anyway, with Pa and I, there were no 10pm bathroom runs.  I went out around 8pm then slept soundly until morning.