Winston Update

Damn dog.

Well, it seems the boy has a bit of separation anxiety.

I was out most of the day Saturday at my daughter’s, and most of Sunday (Pancake breakfast). So what he does is takes my clothes and brings them to his bed. Which Is fine, I suppose, since he takes the dirty ones. But he’ll start chewing on them. That’s bad.

Yesterday, matters were different.

Usually between 8 and 8:30 the two dogs will rotate in and out of my office to see why a walk isn’t happening yet. Since I’m off this week, I’m in no hurry in the mornings. When I was ready, I looked around and found no dogs. Aria was in the side yard, monitoring the street. Winston was behind a big pecan tree, clearly up to something.

Look at the paws.

Digging a hole to China, he was. Got it on his face and everything.

After a walk, into the car he went to go get a bath. Here I am with the hernia repair, not supposed to lift much, trying to manhandle a dog, who realized a bath was coming at the door to the place, into a low tub to scrub his ass.

Scrub I did. So now he’s fluffy.

Bullshit handled, I dumped him home and headed out to look at properties up northwest of here. Princeton and Farmersville. I like them both, although ick is creeping to Princeton. But the rents are well cheaper than here, and it’s outside the DFW grey zone. Good first pass. My second may be to Ennis. I hadn’t looked south, but it’s worth a look. I may look at Fort Worth, but I don’t know what’s a good area there and what’s not.

So back home.

To an utter disaster.

It appears homey got bored and grabbed the butter dish from the counter. It was shattered on the floor, and a nearly new stick of butter was long gone, paper and everything. My shorts were on his bed, and there were raw spaghetti noodles all over the living room, as well as a chewed up empty bag of greenies. Luckily, that was empty when I left. Oh yeah, and dirt clods from this morning.

I snarked at him, and let him know I was pissed. Aria was in her crate, looking mournful (with parts of a butter dish in her crate, I might add). He moped around until dinner, where I let him off the hook.

My fault, really. I’ve trained three dogs not to do this. Should’ve cleaned up after cooking. I need to get in the practice anyhow for when this place lists. And a SSSCat can will be up to train him not to counter surf.

The hole?

I filled it with dogshit and dirt. If their mess is in it, they won’t touch it. I’m sure there’s a first time, but it’s worked with the last three.

Maybe he needs to ride with me on these trips.