Thursday is doggie day care day. It is a day for me to be able to shop, and leave the front door open whilst I bring said shopping into the house. It also means I can leave the bags on the floor without them being raided by the dog who is convinced he is starving, all the time. He hurls himself into a bag, grabbing whatever his teeth clamp onto first, and high tails it off into the lounge as if he was an SAS operative home from a highly successful mission.
Before day care we had a system, dog was shut in the kitchen via the stairgate, husband brought the shopping in, handed it to me over the gate and I, in turn hefted it over another stairgate which shuts off the utility room. Oh, two stairgates I hear you say, how inconvenient. Actually its three, we have one at the foot of the stairs too, initially put there to allow the cat space for herself without the risk of being eaten alive. A Milo free zone is a precious commodity in this house!
Thursdays is now the only day my guinea pigs can go out into their run without being terrorised. Basterd dog runs round and round the run frantically gnawing at the bars whilst my poor piggies cower in terror under their plant pots. My last dog ignored them completely, so they lived a life of luxury, with free reign of the garden and coming and going as they pleased. Poor things are now locked up most of the time.
Man, he's a terror, still! He vandalises the house and furniture, digs up the grass, jumps up at the kitchen sides, still tries to eat shoes, bags, coats, if its left out its fair game. He has decided he has learned enough commands for his liking, and any negative ones certainly dont apply to him. He is 2yrs old next month and shows no signs of calming down, or behaving!
Would we do it again? Nope. Do we wish we hadn't had him? Often! Do we love him? Unconditionally, daft sods that we are!
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