Countdown to Keller's Birthday

PitaPata Dog tickers

Saturday, March 20, 2010


Keller is on a revenge streak. I think.

She decided to go after my face yesterday. Not on purpose, but she likes to paw at things (furniture, her toys, other dogs, get it). Her nails are pretty sharp too. Wouldn't you know it, the stinker was lying next to me in bed and decided she'd had enough impromptu nap time (sorry pup - I was tired) so up came the paws and right across the face.


Luckily one of the scratches disappeared today, the other one remains. I'm sure to the people at the dog park, it looked as if I had gotten in a mad cat fight or was being my typical sloppy self and left the house with ketchup strewn across face (been there, done that!).

On a different note - this dog was SO muddy today after coming back from our walk to the dog park that I took one look at her and laughed. She reeked and there was no way a towel was going to get her clean, so I knew a bath would unfortunately be the best solution.

Since getting her upstairs is half the battle in the Bathtime Battle, I left her downstairs and went upstairs to pull a sliver out of my finger. Eventually, she trotted upstairs and went into the bedroom. Luckily, with quick thinking, I caught her as she was eyeing up the bed and was about to assume "jump up" position. So - I threw her in the tub and washed her. All by myself. Anyone who owns a dog that hates bathtime knows the achievement this is. She sat and sulked the whole bath.

But just because revenge is sweet, when she was all suds-ed up, she decided to give me the whole shake-a-roo, and dirty, soapy scud went flying all over.

Afterwards, she assumed her curled up position on the bed, in my spot, head on my pillow, and scowled.

For further revenge, even after over an hour and a half of outdoor exercise today, I came home for supper to find five shoes in the living room: Dave's slippers, my old running shoes, and my previously chewed up winter boot. I have no idea how she got into the downstairs bathroom since that door is always closed when we leave. Magically, she had left the slippers and one of my running shoes alone, but had started to go to town on the others. It could have been worse - my hiking boots and bookbag were in the bathroom too. Then I really would have been ticked!

Seriously? I think she misses Dave.

No comments:

Post a Comment