I should start a new category of posts called, “How I Know Our Dog is an Asshole.” Because sometimes, he really is. And sometimes he’s a sweet and loving puppy. Sometimes.
Things the damn dog has eaten (other than his regular meals) in the past couple of weeks:
- 15-20 lbs of dog food (resulted in: call to the emergency vet)
- over 50 tablets of Deter, a medicine to prevent dogs from eating their own poop (resulted in: call to the emergency vet, him eating his poop three days later)
- 5 month supply of heartworm medication (another call to the emergency vet)
- the water bill
- new issue of Real Simple
- spiral bound wall calendar
- paycheck stub
- thank you note from the neighbor
- end of power cord to Bernie MacBook (by far the most expensive thing on the list)
This is usually what greets me when I get home:
On the plus side, he does a mean Sarah Palin impression:
Stanley is just over 5 months old, so we have a long way to go before he’s out of his puppy phase. However, we are very close to his de-balling. It’s scheduled for the day before Thanksgiving, so you know what I’ll be thankful for.
To see how much he has grown in the 3 months we have had him, here’s a compare and contrast.
8 weeks – cute, innocent, sweet little puppy. Contender for the title of Internet’s Cutest Puppy.
5 months – farting, biting, destructive puppy. Contender for the title of “#1 Cause of Why Karen Had A Stroke”.
I know I complain and get upset at him a lot. but really? I love that little shit. And I’m not the only one.
