I’m ready to drive two dogs and one cat into a lake and blame it on a black man. Beebs and Shmo have been tearing around the house at warp speed all morning. It’s quasi-precious in that A) they’re playing in a way The Doo (aka The Good One) and Beebs never did and B) greyhounds just look so darn cute when they’re playing tug o’ war with a knotty rope and pouncing on squeaky toys. Or one of my sneakers as was the case this morning. But it’s not all BJs and roses.
1) Shmo disappeared upstairs. I followed shortly thereafter to discover Beebs standing in the hall with her squeaky Cheesy Poofs toy and Shmo standing in the hall taking a piss. He wagged his tail a bit when he saw me. I shouted ‘bad dog’ and grabbed his collar and hauled him outside where he finished his bidness. I begrudgingly praised him. In we went. While I was mopping up the mess upstairs, The Doo wandered up. I swear to Jeebus she looked at me, looked at the mess, looked back at me and rolled her eyes and sighed. A gallon of Nature’s Miracle doesn’t go as far as one might think when training a just-off-the-track hound.
2) At some point during the morning, the cat pulled an Exorcist number and spray-coated the comforter with vomit. He’s old and much can be forgiven, but after the thunk-thunk-thunk of playful hounds zipping through the house, the pee incident and just general under-footedness, I was not amused.
It’s enough to make a body want a slug of bourbon at 10am.
In other news, I told The Husband I wanted to keep Shmo. When he’s not voiding himself on my carpet, he’s an awesome dog and Beebs and he are pretty much inseparable. I worry about her eventual separation anxiety. As you might imagine, this was not well received. We’ll see who wins the war. I may have a different perspective next week. Meanwhile, they’re adorable when they’re asleep: