I Have a Puppy

May 28, 2009

      She gets me up by 6AM if not sooner, and if I ignore her cries, the cat will leap on my chest.
      She gets into the Refrigerator - as into.
      She leaps into the dishwasher, presumably to check out the silverware.
      She rolls in the towels I have tossed from the linen closet into a heap on the floor as I re-org (I was hunting my bullets) (found them)
      She rolls belly-up and chews on the leash I attached to a harness
She leaps onto the rails of the Total Gym and finds herself stuck and must be rescued - once.
      She gets even by chewing the foam arms of the Total Gym - those not already being protected by a quilt to prevent the cat from chewing them.
      She leaps into the corner, knocks over the big woven vase, and attacks a few fake flowers
      She gets tangled in the electrical cord for the laptop speakers - and cries as if in pain - she wasn't even stuck.
      She pulled up a weed and flopped in the sunlight to chew thoughtfully on it.
      She checks out my dirty underwear.
      She tries to climb into the toilet while I am using it.
      She goes for panties, the cat goes for the trouser socks.
      She hunts for any shoes I don't have behind a closed door or elevated out of reach. Just in case.
      She drags a jumble of rope the length of the house, the yarn balls having been deemed dangerous.
      She attempts to drag a hose, because it looks like one of the ropes she's been dragging around.
      She drags any loose paper off the edges of the coffee table.
      She chews hair curlers flat.
      There are few snails left in my yard.
      Even the squirrels are hiding.
      She's debating about climbing the bookcase. The DVD cabinet is looking interesting.
      She chews electrical cords and went after the Ethernet cable. (Sorry - cat got it first.)
      She chews up knitting patterns.
      She got into the $$$$ yarn for a sweater I hope to make - one of these days.
      She hunts for pens.
      She has a toy every 5 feet from one end of the house to another and darts between them.
      She has the attention span of a gnat, unless it is the location of the Fancy Feast Chicken Gourmet cat food in the cat's dish. That she retains like a steel trap.
      She can leap into a cat pan before you can grab it or even realize it's down.
      She can knock over waste baskets. The bathroom trash cans are in the tubs. All of them.
      She can ALMOST climb onto the sofa, and can leap off without using the pillows for landing. Anymore.
      Size doesn't matter. If it's new, smells, she wants it.
      She attacks rakes until she decides she has them sufficiently cowed. Her barking can set of the neighborhood dogs.
      She hunts and eats snails.
      She climbs over logs form the woodpile - big fat logs, and chews tree branches she couldn't possibly move.
      She jumps into the upside-down dog house roof, rocks in it, and leaps out.
      She plays hide in seek under the plants outside and under all the beds inside.
      She licks pudding off a fork and cottage cheese off a spoon.
      She can dart between your legs and run 30 feet out the door while you are still collecting your wits. (Dumping garbage on her and grabbing her foot was the only way to stop her.)
      She whines and cries until the car is in motion, then she sleeps, for 8, 9, 10 hours, all the way to San Diego, waking up only when the engine stops so I can find a bathroom, coffee and gas, in that order.
      She can howl loud enough that no one in the parking lot at Harris Ranch had any doubt there was a Beagle in my car.
      She can play disabled puppy until you remove the harness.
      She ignores the word "No".
      She sits like a princess at the door to come in. (Self-taught trick)
      She chases the cat, who is becoming used to her, and wants to play.
      She shreds rugs.
      She undoes Velcro straps on sandals.
      She tried to climb the cat tree.
      She is trying to EAT the cat tree.
      She can find that one piece of kibble in a 1600 sq ft house with unerring canniness.
      She attacks anything that squeaks and shakes it into submission. (Stuffed toys) (She hasn't tried doing this to the cats.)
      She can't have these toys once she has her dog teeth.
      She is a hunter.
      She drags Calla lilies all over the yard, running with 3 foot stems clamped in her puppy teeth, ears flapping.
      She eats quickly and watches me (it is required that I watch).
      She always gets her soft ears wet.
      She bite her own ear by accident. Mommy had to love it better.
      She ALMOST has the "do the duty outside please" down - except for the occasional accident.
      She recognizes puppy pads and likes to shred newspapers. Which are down in case she misses the puppy pad.
      She tries to bite and wriggles when she doesn't want to be picked up.
      She is solid - i.e., built like a tank.
      She runs like a bullet.
      She kisses you and licks your face, hands, legs, whatever is handy.
      She likes belly rubs.
      She snuggles when sleepy (under my chin) and likes her ears patted.
      She wrestles with the harness when you try to put it on.
      My work badge has been chewed.
      She knows the sound of the vet's voice because he has these special treats. (HA! I bought a package of them - for training----)
      She eats from a Corelle bowl and recognizes it. So much for stainless steel non-tip dog dishes!
      She eats kibble that is soaked in hot water.
      She is all of 7 lbs 6 oz and is mending my heart.
      Jonathan would have loved her to pieces.
      Speaking of pieces, she pulls on my PJ shorts. She pulls on my pant leg. She grabs my jacket, shirt, whatever.
      She licks me all over and then goes on a round of destruction.
     The corners of my carpets are permanently frayed.

Gracie - the new typist in the house.

Chuck and Gracie

Hope Chuck didn't need that rope!