Tweed’s no good, very sad day

n-1-23

I took his collection of Tiny Humpables away and gave them to someone else.

You’re mean, and I hate you.
n-1-27

It all started when I had a big fight with Ruth, and kicked her out of the house.

You suck, and I’m going to eat your face.
n-1-29

Just kidding.  She was trying to get a piece of grass off the roof of her mouth there.

However, she was causing me no end of grief the last few days, so I made an executive decision and ushered her along to her next foster home a little earlier than planned.

On Thursday night I apparently didn’t latch the pen door shut very well, because on Friday morning I awoke to Ruth sitting on the end of my bed, having left me several presents of the urinary and defecatory variety on the areas rugs.  My house being what it is, and it is being a tiny farmhouse with no doors between its two rooms, I must sleep with ear plugs to block out the sounds of wrestling puppies.  I figured Ruth had really needed to go and I didn’t hear her over the plugs, so she escaped her pen and did her business on my floor.  Oh well.  I spent the morning cleaning dog shit off the rug and thought no more of it.

Saturday while at work, I got a phone call from Joe, who wondered why I’d moved the XPen all the way into the middle of the living room, and told Ruth to destroy my ENTIRE HOUSE while I was away.  She’s gotten out of the pen again, ripped up all my trash, pissed and shit everywhere, demolished my bathroom and basically became Ruth Tornado in my living space.  Argh!!

I whipped home from work with exactly 10 minutes to spare before I had to leave again to shoot the Paws2Dance Gala rehearsal.  I used these precious 10 minutes to move the kitchen table against the pen door and barricade the rest with chairs.  When I returned 2 hours later, Ruth greeted me at the door, standing in a pile of garbage that Joe had cleaned up and bagged at lunchtime.  Double ARGH!

I didn’t even get to go to the Gala performance that evening, because I had to stay home with Ruth.  Exciting Saturday nights – I haz them.  Without putting a lid on the pen and staking it to the floor, I apparently was not allowed to leave my home.

Or sleep.  Because when I got up this morning, Ruth was dancing on a lake of pee and poop in my entry way.

So I loaded Ruth and the puppies into my van
n-1-24

and drove them straight to Auntie Hilary’s house, where they have double the space, and Ruth will have someone home all the time … and a dog door to the garden!
n-1-26

I can’t say I was too sad to say ADIOS to the back end of Ruthie by this point.  But I am going to miss my little furry potatoes something fierce :(

Food Lady, where are you going?
n-1-25

I wish I had a better set up for pups, because I do so love fostering litters.  I love watching them morph from lumps to tiny dogs – the moment they start recognizing my voice, and wagging their tails when I speak, or discovering my toes … it’s all so fascinating!  And snuzzling puppylimpkins isn’t too shabby either.  But Hilary does a simply marvelous job with the pups, and they will be well loved there for sure.  And Hilary is much less likely to stab Ruth in the eye with a pencil than I am.

Buh bye Ruthie!
n-1-33

If I had half a brain and an ounce of sense, I’d give us all a well earned break and not foster anything for a while.  I’m still trying to find time in my every day to start teaching Dexter his 2X2s, and that’s going to be even harder to do with the time change! But I really need to put this intensity to good use:
n-1-34

But because I’m me, I have 3 whole days of downtime before another Saskatchewan refuge arrives to claim asylum in my house.

This is Chet.  You’ll all get to meet him real soon!
chet

Unless I kill him.(insert scary movie music here)
n-1-31

But can I hump him?
n-1-30

Comments

  1. What about Tweed?

  2. CHET!! Thanks for giving us more adorable, now that the spuds are gone!

    Sorry about the shit and piss. My first dog Annie used to leave me a river and a dump every day when I got home from work. She was locked in my basement and my dad would let her out at lunch.

    After months of this, one night as I was cleaning the river I started to cry. She came over and stuck her nose in my face and I said “you have to stop this. I can’t do this every night.” and do you know she didn’t do it again! I know, I couldn’t believe it but it’s true.

    I’m sorry that Tweed’s most incredible day is now over. Maybe he’ll bond with Chet!

  3. Squee! Chet is ADORABLE! Is he a blue? (Note that I’m not mentioning your lack of sanity…)
    Love that last photo of Tweed. What a handsome boy! And the lighting is incredible.

  4. Sorry about the troubles. Hugs to Tweed for losing his little toys!
    Chet! Yippee..more puppy!!
    Boy, those puppies sure did not go hungry at all did they? Picture number five just really showed their roly-poliness!!

  5. Chet has freckles on his nose? *dies*

  6. Hope you’re not too mad at Ruth. I think having puppies pulling at me all day would make me a bit psychotic too.

    Hope you have fun with Chet.

  7. That you can tell us your tale of woe in your usual wonderfully humorous way never ceases to amaze me. Sorry about the mess, but thanks for sharing!

  8. Awwww, I knew as soon as I read the post title that I was going to see an empty ex-pen and a sad Tweed. :(

    Chet looks very cute, and there is only one of him, so here’s hoping that the atmosphere at your place will be much more relaxed — and less like the inside of a porta-potty, too.

  9. Catherine says:

    It might just be the perspective of the photo… but Chet’s paws look like they could double as paddles.

    what a cutie.

  10. If you’re using wire crates that are designed to disassemble for relocating, they’re definitely escapable. I rescued an abused rottie with severe separation anxiety at one point, and with two days of practice she had the “dismantle the annoying wire-frame chinese puzzle from the inside” trick down to about 3.7 seconds. It was pretty amazing to watch. “Let’s see. Push here to leverage that pin just a little. Nose here. Lift abruptly, ejecting pin. Free! (Exits crate, which folds flat behind her). That was fun, dad! Now where were we going again? Can I ride in the front this time?”

    If Ruth weren’t already gone, I’ld suggest you stick a video camera on a tripod, then walk out and start up a car to find out how she does it. It would be both hilarios and educational – especially with your knack for captioning.

    In my case, the crate door wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she could lift the upper part of the crate away from the bottom part and thereby loosen the pins holding the assembly together. From there she had enough play in the crate structure to break it down pretty easily.

    Plastic tie-ties tying the sides to the bottom solved that right quick. Since they’re the next best thing to free, you can just cut them off when you want to break the crate down.

  11. The Food Lady says:

    No, I am not using a wire crate. How the heck would a 50lb mother dog and her 8 puppies fit in a wire crate? And how cruel would that be? I would think that the pictures of the XPen would indicate I have been using an XPen, not to mention the several references in several posts I have made to, you know, the XPen!

    Either way, Ruth is much happier at Hilary’s where she has an XPen set up she can come and go from, and also a dog door so she can visit the garden whenever she likes, unlike my house. Much better for all of us, although I still miss my puppies.

  12. Well shucks. I totally did not get enough of my puppy fix. lol

    But that many dogs, in a small space, and one going nuts. Mmm… I would be ready to do gross bodily harm to someone or something pdq.

    Glad you moved them over!

  13. Sorry about the crate thing. Obviously it wouldn’t hold the puppies, and of course you wouldn’t do that. I think the break-out story brought back my own memories, that’s all.

  14. I’m sorry for the mess that Ruthie left you to clear up but am also feeling sorry for Ruthie. If I was feeding eight of those fat little f*ckers, I’d be trying to escape too! (Maybe she read your blog and saw those dolphins flapping and was worried about her figure?).

    Could be wrong but suspect we are going to fall in love with Chet. My heart’s gone all melty already. Have fun!

Speak Your Mind

*