Life with Achilles

I think of myself as a responsible pet owner. I do all the normal things any responsible pet owner would do like picking up after him when he poos on walks, distract him when the mailman comes to the house (because his barks sound like he would like to tear out the poor man’s heart), annual visits to the vet unless he manages to injure himself in-between then we might have multi annual trips to the vet. He once broke two toes in three places and had to wear a cast for 8 weeks. He is current on all medication and shots and he gets walks and runs throughout the week (I could step this part up a bit) even a visit to the Platte River or Chatfield Dog Park once in a while. He will soon be the recipient of some expert doggie training.

You would think because of all the nice things we do for him he would be the most grateful dog and just be good instead of insisting that he nap on the couch or getting into the trash or eating any morsel that might have accidently been left in his sight.

The other day I had to go to the post office. Going to the post office could be a post all in itself. I can see why it’s called “going postal” but I won’t bore you with my complaints about the post office. Suffice it to say I try to never go but it couldn’t be helped this time. It was necessary.

So anyway after what I would call a very painful trip to the post office I returned home to find Achilles greeting me at the door with his ears down and a look on his face that says “guilty”. If you are a dog owner you know the look. What I don’t get is if he knows he is guilty why doesn’t that stop him from doing the bad deed in the first place?

Then I see crumbs all over my living room carpet. Funny, I swear I put all the food away so his greedy little paws wouldn’t touch anything. I am curious, what did he eat? I walk a bit further into my home and see more evidence of his greed, crumbs on the cork floor and even on the couch! He had the gall to not only sneak food he wasn’t supposed to but he ATE IT ON THE COUCH! I search the kitchen but still can’t figure out what he ate….and then it hit me, there was a full box of dog bones in the closet and I forgot to shut the door. I walk to the said closet and yup, he ate about half the box. I am not sure what stopped him from eating the entire box, whether it was my return from the post office or his tiny pea brain kicked in and said, “Wow, my tummy is getting really full maybe I should stop eating these bones.” My bet is on my return as I have never seen an example of his brain working.

I then reap the benefits of his bad behavior when I get to smell his awful gas for the next two days and when he had to go out for two emergency potty trips at 2am and then again at 3 am.

This morning I was not however a responsible pet owner. On our morning run he had to go potty and his system is so screwed up from the binge his poo was pretty much goo (liquid-y watery goo) sorry for the vivid picture this might paint in your mind. There was no way I was going to even attempt to pick this goo up. Thankfully it was on a side yard full of weeds. Sorry to whoever might call that weed filled patch their yard.

That my friends is in a nutshell “life with Achilles”.

 

2 Responses to “Life with Achilles”

  1. LMAO. I know it really shouldn’t be that funny, it’s more of an, I remember our dog doing similar things commiserating with you sort of laugh because sometimes you just have to laugh in order to not go crazy.

  2. the mama bird diaries Says:

    Oh man. Been there. Makes me a bit grateful that we found our dog a wonderful home in the suburbs last year.

    As for the post office… do you all have the self-service machines yet? The best freakin’ thing that ever happened to me at the post office. So fast. No lines. Love them.

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