Please, Pees Me

 

I’ve had three or more foster dogs over the years. The last one was Daisy. Of all the fosters I had, I decided to keep the most problematic of them. Daisy. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a sweet little dog and she seems to love and trust me. Her only flaw was that she was not completely house broken when I got her. Already ten years old, she had most of it down. She knew that outside was where you pooped and peed. What she didn’t stand for was me not taking her out exactly when the urge hit her, so she’d leave me a reminder on the floor. One day I decided that I would put one of the leftover puppy pee pads from previous foster dogs, on the floor. Sure enough, Daisy used it. She left a little wet circle in the middle of the pad. I praised her for her good aim and gave her a baby carrot as an reward. Bad move, because Daisy is a very smart little dog. She immediately realized that for every pee spot on the pad, she got a carrot as a reward. So now I’ll be sitting in my chair and a very excited Daisy will come prancing into the living room, all proud, expecting that carrot. Instead of excitedly trying to get me to take her out, she just pees on the pad as if it’s an ATM for carrots.

Lately Daisy has added another dimension to peeing on the puppy pee pad. Poop, she poops on the pad. The worst thing about that is, Daisy eats poop. Daisy eats dog poop, Daisy eats bird poop, Daisy eats whatever poop critters leave behind. The only reason I know she poops on the puppy pee pads are the poop stains left behind.  Anyway, it does make it easier on me in the winter or if it’s raining. Let her do her thing on the pad, and give her a carrot.

One more thing. Daisy does not pee, nor poop on the pad if I leave the house. I can be gone for eight hours and when I get home Daisy will not have done it on the puppy pee pad. I’m sure her reasoning is, why waste a good pee if I’m not immediately going to get a carrot reward.

I Eat My Own Face

 

(First of all let me say how happy I am that I figured out how to get back into my blog. During a long period where I was otherwise distracted I did neglect it, but I am back. I don’t write all my passwords down which can be good, and can be bad. This time a good guess fixed things. I still don’t know the password because I didn’t write it down again. I simply won’t ever sign out.)

About two or more weeks ago I bought a nice steak at the Jewel. It had the fifty percent markdown tag on it because it was about to go past its sell date. It’s the only way I ever buy meat, marked down. Seriously, it tasted just as good or better than if I paid the twenty dollars, extremely tender and flavorful. Unfortunately, while I was gnawing down on a mouthful, my mouth got confused. In all the mass of chewed up cow meat, I bit down hard on my inner lip. There was a shot of pain and a loud scream that sent the begging dogs running. They came back quickly though when I spit the meat out and blotted blood from my lip. My dogs don’t care, used meat tastes just great to them. I was looking forward to that meal, planning for it all day. I had mashed potatoes, and corn along with the steak, and a nice wine to wash it down. The pain was so bad I just couldn’t finish dinner. Anyway, after that painful meal I have re-bit the same spot at least fifty times. No matter how slowly I chew, no matter how carefully I chew, I still keep biting my inner lip. I’ve bit it for breakfast while eating my Cheerios. I’ve bit it again while eating a Wolfy’s hotdog. I bit the lip when chewing my melatonin gummy before bed, while eating Jell-o, I even bit it while sucking a smoothie up through a straw. The only thing I can see that will cure my sore lip would possibly be a week long liquid diet, but I’d probably still find a way to injure myself.