There was a time I blogged a lot on Doodle Kisses. It seemed my dogs were always up to something and gave me lots of material. As they have gotten older, mostly I am still dealing with the same stuff I have blogged about for years, so I guess I have less and less to say. I mean, how many times can I blog that my dogs are terrible on leashes, think recall means I just keep re-calling them, and are sometimes on Santa’s naughty list? Well, at the ages of almost eight and nine respectively, Vern and Fudge have come up with some new behaviors.
The other week, I brought home from the grocery store some of my homemade chicken. John prepared himself a plate and then disappeared. John is like the Elf on the Shelf. I need to start offering gifts to the person who can find him when he is needed. Well, I was downstairs and heard a ruckus and came up to find John accusing Fudge of eating all his chicken. When I asked him why he was blaming Fudge, he said when he came around the corner he caught her with the last little bit of his chicken. Sounds like airtight evidence to me, but I was still mad at John for leaving my homemade chicken from the grocery store unattended and worried about Fudge and chicken bones. Luckily, it all came out in the end, and we are now much more careful about where we leave our food.
I love Hallmark Christmas movies. Always have and always will. There are a couple of people in my family who put them down and laugh that the same actors and actresses seem to get recycled over and over again into the leads of different movies. In fact, just the other day I had one on while I was baking my Christmas cookies and John kept insisting we had just seen the movie together the other night. The fact that it was the same actress, but completely didn’t plots, shows you how invested John is in these movies. I tried to explain to him that it is more about the good feelings these movies leave me with than the plot, so I guess the jokes he makes while I am watching them, are told to keep me laughing. There is something so sweet about the innocent romances that call to mind the old movies of years gone by and I hate when he is around when the romance starts to heat up. He’ll say something like, “looks like the North Pole just made an appearance,” as the two leads get ready to lock lips. “You could learn a thing or two from these movies, “ I’ll tell him, but then he’ll say something dumb back like, “Young Lady, let’s decorate the Christmas tree together and drink hot chocolate and eggnog. I am sure I have some Christmas balls around here somewhere.” Usually at this point, I hand him the remote and go to another room to finish my movie.
The other day I was watching Candace Cameron-Bure in a great movie, sure to become a classic, about two twins who switched places. Of course, John came to the bed in the middle of it and after my quick synopsis to get him up to speed, just said that it sounded like a really original plot that’s only been done like a hundred times. Anyways, there was a moment during the movie that I cried out, “I just said that last week!” when Candace told her boyfriend to always “adopt, don’t shop.” It’s the closest I have ever come to feeling like I was in a Hallmark movie in real life. Of course, I said it a bit differently than Candace, but it still counts.
It happened when John and I were walking our dogs up at the park and a car turned up the road where we were walking. Fudge and Vern have a thing that they do and it drives me nuts. Sometimes, when a car drives by, they do nothing. They go about their business as if nothing is happening. Other times, I will see them alert and cast furtive glances at each other, as if they are playing some kind of game to see who can bark first at the car and rev up the other. When this happens, it is never pretty, because all 115 pounds of Vern likes to one up Fudge and not only bark, but also try and move closer to the car for added impact. Since I am on the other end of the leash, this means my arm and shoulder are involved and it just infuriates me. I am ok if I am prepared and can redirect them, but once I was bent over picking up their potty and Vern caught me unaware and spun both of us around. A woman with a bag of poop in her hand is not to be messed with and I am sure the driver of that vehicle thought I was a sailor that day.
So, as it happened on our walk last week, John was around to witness this poor behavior and I said, “Fudge and Vern should be the poster dogs for Adopt, Don’t Shop. People could just follow us around and no one would get a Doodle!” And before anyone think I am against buying a dog, I am just being facetious, because I know so many great Doodles. Deep down, I think we all know it is my lack of training that caused the real problems and the real motto for me should be train, don’t complain. Fudge and Vern just know what they can get away with when I am in charge.
Which leads me to the newest bad behavior that happened the other week and I don’t feel is because of my poor training or me. We came home from dinner out, to find John’s slipper half eaten and completely trashed. Sure, Vern has a thing for socks, but NEVER have either dog messed with our shoes or shown any interest in them. In fact, those slippers sit in John’s office every night and most of the day when he is at work and I have never even seen them sniff them. I knew when I opened the door that something was wrong, because Fudge didn’t give us her usual over the top greeting and Vern seemed shy. I was almost positive that something happened with my reindeer draft stopper that I had just put out, but was unprepared for the half eaten shoe found on Vern’s dog bed. The leather part was gone and it looked like we got home just in time to save shoe number two. Thankfully, one of John's feet can still remain warm in the winter. Neither dog fessed up and we both blamed Vern, but Fudge drank LOTS of water later that night, so we weren’t sure how many perps we had living under our roof.
I called the vet just to be safe and was told if they are eating normally, pooping, and not throwing up, to just monitor their poops closely and get back to them if anything changes. The funny thing is if my mom so much as mentioned the word “bowel” to me, I would almost start to gag. I don’t know how many times I told her to tell a nurse, not me! Yet, I can bend over, pick up my dog’s poop and examine it for remnants of a shoe and not miss a beat. I can just hear her saying, “you and those darn dogs.” In the end, it did turn out to be Vern and we think Fudge was just drinking all that water to throw us off course. It was a rough week for Vern. Anything that goes down that shouldn’t has to come out somehow and it did. I’d like to say he learned a lesson, but he got into a stuffed animal while I was wrapping gifts, so I think we learned that Vern will chew shoes and stuffed animals and everything has to be put up as if we are dealing with a 115 pound puppy. He turns eight in January. Fudge will be nine on Christmas. We are hoping they have gotten most of this out of their system. At least the slipper is out!