Monday, October 22, 2007

The Secret Life of Huckleberry

Our dog is beloved. The entire neighborhood adores this dog. People stop by on an unvaried schedule to visit with her and give her treats. Several folks have actually offered, "If you ever have to move and you can’t take your dog, we’d love to have her."

But she’s not fooling me. I know she’s mischievous and ill-mannered. I know the real Huckleberry.

My hubby allows her in the house in the evening. I do not. She does, after all, have a dry, warm place to sleep on our covered porch.

Her hair is too long and gets everywhere (and does outrageous things to my allergies,) she doesn’t stay in the dog bed Hubby has provided her, she sneaks into the garbage and generally does whatsoever pleases her puppy heart.

Hubby, however, is a softie and looks at me with sad eyes and tells me how cold it is outside for poor little Huckleberry. So the dog is allowed in.

This morning when the alarm went off at 7, I got up and made my way through the still dark house to the kitchen. On my way, I stepped on the warm furry tail which was nowhere near the doggy bed. Huckleberry, disdainful of the house rules, had settled herself comfortably in front of Youngest’s bedroom door.

Knowing she was in trouble since I was the one to find her, she scurried over to the door which leads out to her pen--as though she had been waiting in the hallway so I would notice her and let her out. She had been doing me a favor . . .

Later, after breakfast and a shower, I went to the living room to put my shoes on just before leaving the house. That’s when I smelled it.

By then, it was light enough for me to see The Nastiness Which I Could Smell. But this wasn’t just one little doggie pile. This was a freaking trail of upset puppy tummy--upset because of the garbage she had snacked on all night . . .

The Nastiness Which I Could Smell turned out to be several small, loose-ish piles all over the living room carpet. And a wet spot near the couch. And speaking of the couch--is that? Could that be? NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Dog crap puppy prints all over the white couch.

"Sweetie," I softly spoke into my sleeping hubby’s ear, "the dog that you allow in the house has left you some gifts all over the living room. Have fun cleaning that up."

And off I went to work.

Just see if he lets the dog in at night anymore : )


Jennifer (Jen on the Edge) said...

And the dog is still a member of your family after that?

So, did your husband get the poopy puppy prints off the white sofa?

Kate said...

all that nastiness from that sweet little one?

way to go on leaving it for the hubby, though! maybe now he'll listen to you :)

whitenoise said...

Yes, the dog will be back in the house. She is, afterall, one of your children.

If you don't already have one, you will buy a steamer and become proficient in its use. You will learn that the best way to scoop up a doggy mess is to use two pieces of cardboard which can then be put in the garbage with everything else.

You will learn what not to leave out. You will learn to read your doggy's expressions and mannerisms enough to know that the anxious clickety-clack of toenails on midnight floors means "uh-oh, tummy-ache...gotta go!"

How do I know all this? Two dogs, two cats, lots of experience... ;-)

whitenoise said...

cute pic, BTW... ;-)

countrymouse said...

Luckily, a friend has a carpet/upholstery cleaner that Hubby was able to borrow for the day. All the puppy prints are gone : )

And you're right, she will be back in the house. And she won't be any better trained, but *we* will be : )