Anyone want a dog?Because I don't.
Our lives have been turned upside down with the stress that arrived with Sammy the Havanese. I don't know how much more clear I can be: I. Don't. Want. This. Dog.
I'm not a dog-hater. I just don't have the time or energy to deal with housebreaking the puppy my mother-in-law had to have but wouldn't train. Even Ian, who loves Sammy, announced amid tears Saturday night: "I want to take Sammy back to Grandma Willie!"
Her idea of training him was to put puppy piddle pads all over her house (including on her bed). So, now he thinks he's supposed to pee on throw rugs. And on my carpet. He takes toys and clothes. He and Ian ransack the house. He terrorizes the cat (who got revenge on us by peeing in James' closet.) He barks in the middle of the night. He won't go outside. Then he won't come back in. He has the potential to be a really nice dog someday. But the puppy stage is killing us. And he's not even ours!
We see some signs of progress: He goes to bed without barking or crying at all. He's not stealing laundry any more. He now keeps a safe distance from the cat. And he hasn't pooped in the house in days. But he still sneaks off to pee on rugs. We're constantly trying to keep track of him because I'm sick of scrubbing floors and shampooing carpets.
James explained to his mom that we are not keeping him. If he doesn't work out for her, we can't be her back-up family for Sammy. She would take him home today, but James won't let her--not until he's housebroken and trained. After all the time, expense and energy they put into choosing and moving her into a retirement home, he said he'll be damned if she gets kicked out because of that dog.
Whew. Glad I got that off my chest.
I was up late last night cleaning and baking hazelnut cookies (pg. 37). But now here I am, blogging at 5 a.m. because of that dog. James headed out for fishing and of course, Sammy thought all the noise and lights meant it was time to get up. He started yipping and barking in his crate at 4:20. James couldn't leave fast enough.
A word about the cookies: I paid $8.99 a pound for hazelnuts at Whole Foods. I could have paid $10.99 a pound for roasted hazelnuts. It would have been worth it. What a pain in the butt. Then, what should have been nut "powder" in the food processor turned into nut paste. Don't nuts have oil or moisture of some sort? Powder my ass.
The first batch burned a little on the bottom. Second batch was better. But James liked them. I noticed this morning that they're almost all gone. They sort of grew on me. But they weren't great.
When I wasn't baking cookies last night, I was putting away yet more goodies from Wilma's move. I helped her with some boxes this weekend, and, as I predicted, she overpacked. Her new kitchen is incredibly small. We put away as much as we could. But there are still boxes of stuff to be given away. I brought home four crystal bowls, antique tea cups, a panini grill, a nice candle thing, a small flatscreen TV (for the motyhome bedroom), an old crystal punchbowl with matching cups, another dog leash (we now have four) and a box of dog toys. But does he play with them?
Oh, and I almost forgot my new Maytag laundry machines. I heart them. She has stackables at Shady Lanes. So I got the frontloader washing machine and fancy dryer.
Good thing, with all the rugs I have to wash. Stupid dog.
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