Not. Happy. With my dog right now.

Back in the 80s, when Pound Puppies got really big, they had these make-your-own kits. My mom made this Pound Puppy for me from one of those kits web I was like 4.

I didn't hang on to a lot of my childhood toys. Just a few special ones that I wanted to pass on to my kids.

Lorelai has only recently been given this one because the pom-pom nose is a choking hazard. Now I trust her not to pull it off a swallow it. Wish I could say the same for my idiot dog.

We took him to a trainer last night for a consultation. The guy said the chewing is basically going to be the hardest thing ever to fix, because he mostly chews in the baby's toys because he can't tell the difference between them and his own. I think that's a lie. Some of the baby's toys he's learned he can't have and he leaves them alone. But others he is convinced are fair game. Mostly he does is when he wants our attention and for whatever reason isn't getting it. (In this case, I was asleep and Kevin was changing Lorelai's diaper or something. We also lose a lot of things when one of us is home alone, giving her a bath or putting her to bed, and there's no one else to run dog interference.)

So, I don't know what to do about that. I DO know that the dog is on thin ice today. (This is two days after he ate part of the ear off my childhood teddy bear, which pissed me off and THAT wasn't made by my mother.)

Puppy.

My mom got Lorelai this really adorable stuffed puppy for Christmas.



It's not so adorable anymore. A lot of the toys he's destroyed, I can fix. Not so much here.

The worst part about having a dog who rips shit to pieces is that if you don't catch him doing it, you can't yell or tell him "bad dog" or spray him with the spray bottle. You just have to...not really do anything but clean up the mess and once again consider selling him to gypsies.

(I threaten to sell him to gypsies a lot. I don't know what kind of gypsies would buy him, though. Most you probably couldn't pay to take him.)

Fundraiser for Torg's new buddy Hudson

Torg has not eaten anything inappropriate today. It's only 8:20, so there's still time, but this is about something else.

Friends of ours just adopted the sweetest 2-year-old Rottweiler. His name is Hudson, and he and Torg have become good friends. He is the biggest love of a dog ever. The catch? He needs hip and elbow surgery, and it is expensive.


The rescue Amanda and Chris got him from is doing a fundraiser over the next few months to help them cover some of the cost of the surgery. Spread the word--if you or people you know have a few dollars marked for an animal charity, please consider donating to Hudson's surgery fund. Every dollar helps.

Hudson and his sister, Sophie

 

The link to donate is here. (The rescue named him Claude. I think Hudson suits him much better, don't you?)

We will now return to our regularly scheduled destruction.

Now he's noisy again.

This is one of those Quiet Spot tag silencer bags. This is the second one. He ate the first one too. This one he ate within 2 days of us getting it.

Remote.

It still works, but just barely. We thought he had his Nylabone. We were wrong.