Friday, 7 June 2013

Pooches and Princess

Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking.Perhaps more than sometimes. For instance, why did I get a second big dog when we don't even have a fenced yard? I think I enthusiastically intended to walk them twice a day. With my toddler. But it's a bigger feat than I anticipated. Often I just take them somewhere to run behind the vehicle instead. The other day when I did a walk they were so excited to go that, with baby in arms, they rambunctiously knocked me flat on my bottom. By the end of that walk I was so frazzled that when we came upon another barking dog I probably didn't come across as very pleased. I almost wanted to find the people on Facebook and tell them I was sorry if I was grumpy.

But they are improving (the dogs, not the people on Facebook). Today at the end of a long walk the two dogs walked on leash at a snail's pace as my daughter slowly pushed the running stroller. They were probably good because they were tired as we'd ran about 7km, but I was so proud of them. Until one caught a scent and shoved between the poor girl and the stroller to get there. Come on pooches, she says "excuse me" to you. Can't you obediently return the manners?

Even with their pushiness, my daughter is in love with her canine companions. She fastidiously feeds them and gives them cookies. She affectionately hugs them and sits with them and talks to them. She gleefully chases them around with her toys. She fondly greets them first thing in the morning. She often calls out for them when we are away from home and sometimes thinks she sees them from afar.

This week has been busy so I got behind on sweeping the floor-- a never ending daily requirement. My daughter dropped her muffin (more like threw her muffin) and picked it up, like she often does. This time, though, it was coated in a nice surprise. One that wasn't too pleasant to eat. She showed me her hair covered muffin with disgust as she tried to spit the offending fur out of her mouth. I told her she should stop throwing food on the floor. Maybe if I sweep less she'll learn to use her table...

Yesterday she spilled a whole glass of smoothie on the floor. The dogs had startled her when they suddenly barked at someone at the door. This sent her little table flying. I couldn't help clean up right away because I was peeling raw shrimp. The guest at the door picked her up and thought she had horrible bug bites all over. I told him, no, it was strawberry smoothie splatters. He put her down and she proceeded to dutifully clean up the pink glob of liquid on the floor with one of her white blouses. Thanks for cleaning up, kid. I then soaked the stained blouse.

The dogs have gotten pretty good at letting her eat, and spill, without taking from her or cleaning up after her. She tries to feed them sometimes. She finds it intriguing how quickly they zoom in on a tossed piece of food. She would share one bite for you and one for me if I would let her. If she only was aware of what these dogs ate and touched with their mouths. Dogs can be gross.

Which is another reason I sometimes wonder what I was thinking. I hate germs. And here I have two big butt sniffing, garbage eating, swamp swimming, dirt tracking mutts. Double the dog and it seemed to quadruple the mess. The newest addition gets food everywhere when he eats (yet daddy still leaves his shoes out so they can be filled). He sheds little puppies and puts them in the corners. I've seen him pee on his leg. And he pulls the stuffing out of the dogs' teddy bears. One way that he is cleaner than the other is that he won't go in water. Which means he graciously avoids puddles, even at a 35km/h run. Which means he doesn't get as mucky.

But he sure gets my older dog mucky. He constantly slobbers all over her head when they play. They make such a mess! I think it was one of God's ways of helping me to be more realistic. I could be OCD if it matched my lifestyle. They gross me out but I love my dogs and want my daughter to experience growing up with them as well. Downsized a little from when I was young. No cuddling on the couch. No dogs on the bed. No sharing food (I never did but I witnessed it happen). We'll see if I can get my daughter to agree with my ideals in the pet department. Poor daddy misses out and loves the dogs on the bed when we go camping. Hmmm, with a toddler I might change that one as well.

Speaking of pets, I wonder what they are doing. A storm woke my daughter so now I am in her room with her sleeping on me as she wasn't quite done her nap. I am a little trapped (and sweaty even though i am under the fan on high) and of course can't yell. I don't know if the sounds I am hearing are sounds of the storm outside or my dog getting into something...

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