It’s about Casey, the Dog of Infinite Badness. She’s become the bane of my existence. Here’s why:
1) She’s soggy again, after being dry and happy for most of a year. She started dribbling on everything sporadically a few weeks ago. She’d be dry, and dry, and dry… we’d take the diaper off and BOOM… sog-tastic mess on carpets, furniture, clothing, pillows.
2) I’m not sure if you’ve ever had to deal with dog pee on upholstery, but it’s difficult (if not impossible) to ever get the smell out. Our couch is basically ruined. I cried about it, and said some very unkind things to Mistress Dribbly-pants. I’m a little ashamed, and a lot disappointed. In both of us.
3) She’s started to eat very odd things. Yesterday she snicked off an about-to-bloom calendula flower and ate it like it was a MilkBone. She’s also trolled in the back yard for fallen impatiens blossoms, rose petals, blueberries, raspberries, and zebra grass.
4) She’s started to rise up on her back legs to eat things off the counters. This one really gets my goat, mainly because she’s never done it before. Before we caught on, she ate half a loaf of bread, fruit, butter, wrappers… anything we hadn’t put away. We’ve gotten a little more careful lately.
5) Yes, I’m aware that becoming rabidly hungry may be a symptom of something else – she will be seen by a vet as soon as possible. However, we’ve been to the vet constantly over the past two years, and they still don’t know what’s up with her. She is up to date with her shots, has a regular treatment plan with the vet, gets long walks twice a day, gets healthy food… She really isn’t neglected.
6) You can’t put a dog down for being incontinent, for ruining a couch, or for eating a stick of butter. Adopting a dog is for life. We promised to take care of her until the end, and we will. But some small and not-very-nice part of me wishes we could drive her into the country to frolic in someone else’s blueberry bushes and on someone else’s couch.
7) When we go out, we have to kennel her or she cleans off the counters, shinnies out of her diaper, jumps on the furniture and leaks piddle everywhere. I don’t really like locking her in her kennel – to me it defeats one of the purposes of having a dog, especially when you leave the house.
I’m sad because she’s completely ruining my house, and sad because no one, human or dog, deserves to be thought of the way I’m thinking of her. It’s not very charitable, and not very nice. Surely I’m a horrid person for not coming to her rescue and fixing all her problems – but I’ve tried. Really. I’ve tried. I can’t fix things, and I wish I could. I want Casey, the Dog of Infinite Badness, to live out the rest of her life surrounded by the people who love her. I want her warm and safe and dry. I want her to be able to sleep by my darling husband’s feet, to be within our reach at all times so we can say ‘good dog’ and pat her on the head.
I’ll keep trying to make her life a good one. Honest, I will. After all, a couch can only be destroyed once, right?
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