Dasher

And they called it puppy love…

Posted by Epijunky on February 4th, 2009 | 14 comments

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My little shit machine is home!  (My apologies to those with sensitive ears.)  I wanted to thank everyone who wrote me through email or comments with excellent advice (all of it pretty much identical) on how to house train the little bugger.  I started to reply to each comment, but then the little guy let loose on my wooden floors again.  And again.  And again.  And twice more.

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But look at that little face.  NinjaMedic, I had the hardest time being stern.  Give me a few more days of this and I’m sure it’ll get easier.  For the record, he seems to like Beanie Babies.  My Daughter gladly gave up Valentino here.  And yes, I managed to distract Dasher long enough to replace the bean filled stuffed animal with something more appropriate.

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Like an approved puppy toy.  A stuffed duck.  There ya go Dash, knock yourself out baby.

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He got sick of the squeaky duck and found the Beanie Baby again.  He’s good.  Stealthy.  That’s my boy.  I need to find better hiding places.

Now give me that Beanie Baby.

Please???

Advice needed…

Posted by Epijunky on February 2nd, 2009 | 9 comments

If anyone out there has any advice on how to get an unhousebroken puppy housebroken, I’d appreciate it.

Email me at epijunky (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thankssoverymuch.

He comes home tomorrow morning btw.  Expect disgustingly cute puppy pictures tomorrow :)

Mom, I want a Dog.

Posted by Epijunky on February 1st, 2009 | 10 comments

Future Cardiologist wants a dog.

She Who Rules wants a purple dog.  (Something to do with play doh and a dog shaped cookie cutter.)

With FC’s 9th birthday around the corner we set out to the Toledo Humane Society to adopt a family member.  I had checked out their website for a few days and had a few dogs in mind that I really wanted to meet.

Terrick

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Loved Terrick.  From the second I saw him.

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Look at those eyes.

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LOOK AT THEM!!!!  He’s practically begging me to take him home.

Unfortunately he was a little larger than what I could deal with.  It broke my heart, but we couldn’t adopt him.  He’s still available for adoption, btw.  Contact the Toledo Humane Society if you’re interested in giving him a proper home.

Next up was Mr. Beans.

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Mr. Beans didn’t like us.  At all.

Then we saw him.

Cowering in a little crate in a separate room from the others.  His name was Dasher, and when he looked at me with his little face I knew I had to have him the kids had to have him.

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When the teenager/volunteer/foster mom to Dasher realized that I was serious about taking him home, she instantly started in with his bad habits.

“He’s not housebroken.”

“He bites. A lot.”

“I’m not sure how he is with kids.”

“He’s crazy with other dogs and little ones.”

“Did I mention he bites?”

I think she would have told me that Dasher was responsible for the assassination of JFK, invented trans fats, and was Obama’s campaign manager if it meant that we wouldn’t be taking him home.  I shooed her out of the room so that we could spend some more time with him without her watching us like a hawk.  I know she’s attached to him.

How could she not be?

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I mean really.

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He’s for the kids after all. Look at that face.

When he fell asleep on my little girls lap I knew it was all over.  She cried when we had to leave him for a day and a half.  He’s getting the snip tomorrow.  Poor little guy.

Wish us luck.  I have a feeling we’re going to need it.

. .