Yeah, so that cute lovable little guy whose job is to sit at my feet and stare at me with “puppy-dog” eyes…? Ugh! His mommy is not super happy. That little fellow has my number, and not in a good way.
He is smarter than a whip I tell you. He knows. I mean, he KNOWS! The little bugger has me totally trained to do his bidding, whatever that might be. Conniving, naughty, destructive ball of fur. Why does he have to look so cute and cuddly while laughing at me?
Each day he adds a new “trick.” Yesterday it was toilet paper. We keep the roll in the corner of the sink to avoid him getting it, but that no longer did the trick. When I came around the corner, the entire roll of paper was in ten-thousand pieces all over the floor. It looked like more like six rolls and a bit similar to a blizzard. We could have made snow angels in the destruction zone.
The worst aspect of his personal mission to drive mom crazy is his toilet training. Oh, he knows. (Did I mention he knows?) But, he has made a game out of it: “Okay, here’s what we’ll do, mom. I’ll tell you when I want to go out. I may or may not “go” at that time, but you will stand next to me and wait just in case I decide to. Or else…” I won’t describe the “or else” for you. You get the picture…
So, hehehehe, the little guy is in for a surprise! He’s going away to two weeks of puppy boot camp! Sleep away camp! The kind where I don’t go crazy, he doesn’t get killed by the owner, and he is returned to me a new dog. God, let that be the truth…
Bless him, but we need to come to an agreement here. An agreement in which I make all the rules and he follows them graciously at MY whim, not his.
I’ll say frequent silent prayers in his absence we shall hope for the best.
Say goodbye to Boog. He’s off on a new adventure!