I finally graduated in December with a BA in English (emphasis in creative writing) and have since joined the adult world workforce so that I can start paying my half of the rent. But I figured if I want to be a writer, I should probably write instead of complain about my boring, not challenging, stupid, boring job so that someday I can fulfill my dream. So here I am, bringing my blog back from the dead.
It sounds like an okay set up. Not ideal, of course, especially since the dogs had gotten used to me being home pretty much all day every day as I had mostly online classes my last semester. It was hard for them to adjust and it was hard for me to let go. I felt like a new mom dropping my baby off at day care for the first time, watching him press his nose against the window as I drove away. Heartbreaking.
Now I sit in an office 7.5 hours a day and wish I was home with the dogs while I simultaneously wonder what they are destroying now. Max enjoys shredding tissues, taking them right out of the box as if he needed to blow his nose, but instead viciously tearing them apart. JD has gone through at least 3 beds in his kennel. I find dog bed fluff everywhere as it spills out of his area and gets kicked into all corners of the room, bathroom, kitchen. I've threatened him numerous times that he'll have to be in the kennel with no bed, but I can never do it. And I even got bitter spray to make the dog bed not taste good, but I think he liked the taste even more.
It's not just that it's annoying to have fluff all over the place and to have to replace his bed every few months. Last time I took JD to the vet, he told me that labs like to eat things (everything), which I was quite aware of as I explained to him how JD stole napkins from laps and somehow, over a couple of months, ingested an entire plastic bowl. He also told me that we really should try to keep him from eating these things. Apparently they could get caught in his innards and make him very sick or cause him to die. We really don't want that, so we have been doing everything in our power to discourage the bed fluff eating. He's just a hungry, growing boy!
Max and JD have constantly been in this destroying mood, upset that they aren't getting attention from anyone for a few hours, while Crimson is very calm and wise. Until the Fourth of July...
We've always known that Crimson is a huge pansy when it comes to loud noises. He cries all night long when the Taku Winds start in the winter, cowers when the vacuum turns on, and barks at all sorts of bangs and bumps. So as we geared up to go watch the fireworks show on the third, Gary turned on the radio in our room to try and drown out the fire crackers being lit off in our neighborhood. Success. But a few days later, as people still thought the festivities should continue, we forgot to turn on the radio when we left for a few hours and came back to a big hole ripped out of the carpet behind the door. And in front of Gary's nightstand. All the way down to the floorboards. Oops.
The fireworks have finally subsided and we've learned our lesson that as Crimson gets old and senile, it is absolutely necessary to give him puppy Valium on the loud holidays. And that you just can't have nice things if you have three dogs. And how important their companionship is to me, especially now that I don't get to hang out with them all day and keep them safe from the terrible fluff in their beds, despicable tissues, and things that go bang.
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