An Evening to Forget

It's 10:30 p.m. (Pacific) Do you know where your children are? How about pets? Do you want mine?

We get home after work last Thursday evening, and what do we find? The dogs have gotten bored and started tearing up the carpet. We see the torn carpet, but there are no pieces of carpet. Why is that?

Let's hearken back to a simpler time. We had just adopted Buddy, and we were told that bedding was a good idea for dogs. So, we get two wool blankets. We put them in the dogs' crates and think nothing more of it. Until we return home from work the following day. Cleo's blanket is fine. But Buddy's? His seems to be torn. He must be tearing at it out of boredom, we think. Well, we were close. He was, in fact, tearing at it. To EAT it. Our genius of a dog decided that he was going to try to eat a wool blanket. We brought him to the doctor. The doctor told us that his stomach was certainly bloated. He also told us that dogs can't digest wool. No, REALLY!!? His advice? Just wait till Buddy throws it up. Meanwhile, don't feed him because nothing will get through.

We paid for that advice?

Fast foward to Thursday. Where were the carpet pieces? In Buddy's belly. We're pretty certain that Cleo destroys the carpet, and Buddy, thinking they're treats, swoops in and swallows them whole. So, we had to wait.

Now, things were getting through - so we noticed - when Buddy was using the outdoor necessary. So, we wondered if it possible that he might actually digest little pieces of carpet.

Yeah, no...

We arrived home today to find him and his crate... well, let's just say, a mess. I bring him outside and spray him down while Joseph tries to air out the house. I let him back in the house, and spray his crate down - which I still have to put back together. Joseph continues with what he was doing. I get back inside. Mayhem. Cleo hasn't eaten and Buddy's drinking water - probably dehydrated from his condition. We let them out so we can square things away. They run around. They run back inside. And Buddy proceeds to grace us with the water he just drank out from the same orifice into which it was originally entered.

Into the garage he went since it had begun to pour outside. More cleaning. Towels into the washer. Joseph cooking. Checked on Buddy. Joseph needed to write something up on his laptop. But Microsoft Word has decided that it will close every time he starts to type. Randomly. And every time. Nice. He comes into the back room to type on the PC.

I turned on the TV. Monday Night Football. The Jints having their way with the Brownies? Nope. Getting killed. I watched them for five minutes and can't believe how buffoonish they looked. Eli utterly lost. Coughlin screaming his reddened face off.

I'm tired, suffice it to say. And I have nothing else to give. I think I'll get out of my work clothes now... just after I rebuild Buddy's crate.