Reading Izzybella’s post about her bad dog really cracked me up, because Artie wreaked some major havoc.
And then I stopped laughing and thought about my bad dogs.
Scout is notorious for knocking over the garbage can if it’s left unwatched. He’ll then strew garbage from one end of the house to the other, ripping apart cartons that once held Atkins shakes, eating plastic containers that contain so much as a morsel of food, eating leftovers so nasty we finally threw them out, etc. If you come to my house you’ll see the trash can perched on top of the washing machine. Not pretty, but far safer.
He also pees all over the house. And it’s not because he can’t go outside–if I’m home, the back door is open so he can go out the doggie door of the storm door. No, sometimes he’ll just get up and nonchalantly saunter over to the bedroom wall or the washing machine or some other place that catches his fancy, lifts his leg, and lets it rip. Of course he gets scolded, but it doesn’t faze him at all.
We named him Scout the first day we met him, and it quickly became apparent that it was the perfect name. He’s always scouting for food. It’s hilarious to watch him walking across the living room floor, nose to the ground, sniffing to see if we missed any food when we cleaned up the mess when we forgot and left the garbage can on the floor. His sister likes to sleep in the same room with me, and sometimes when she leaves my room, he’ll come bolting down the hall to see if I have any food for him, or if she perchance left a treat under the bed that he could steal.
Molly, despite her insistences otherwise, is just as naughty as Scout. When we give her a treat, she doesn’t eat it right away, like he does. Then when he’s finished with his treat and is staring longingly at hers, she smiles at him, holds it between her paws, and very deliberately eats it, slowly, to increase his agony. Every now and then she’ll throw him a bone, and get up and get a drink of water, during which time he’ll snare her treat and scamper with it on the couch to eat it in undisturbed peace.
Molly, and I blush to admit this, enjoys taking my dirty undies out of the hamper and hauling them into the back yard to munch upon in her leisure time.
Dogs are absolutely disgusting, filthy, dirty, foul—-and completely loveable and sweet and forgiving.
I’m fond of my babies.
