Oliver was up at 2AM last night wandering around the house making his jingle, jingle, jingle noise as his dog tags heralded his pacing. I have no idea what his problem was, but, because he has been having potty accidents every so often, I decided I’d better get up and let him out. It was really, really dark in the back yard last night. I let him out and then filled up his food bowl and checked his water bowl and then went to let him back in. He wasn’t at the door and all was silent in the pitch black darkness out there. I whispered, “Oliver,” not wanting to yell it and wake up our kids or the neighbors and even tried to whistle. Finally I heard him jingle, jingle, jingling toward the door.
Whether that’s what he needed or not, he finally settled himself out on the couch after two unsuccessful attempts to jump on my bed. I am really, really glad I bought a waterproof mattress protector for our new, still being paid for mattress, by the way. The other day one of his potty accidents was right in the middle of the bed. Grrrrrrrrr. I just found another one by the dining room table. That must be due to the constant rain we’ve had for two days straight now. He doesn’t like to go out in it. He is neurotic, I’m telling you.
He also barks at invisible people. That must be what it is because he’ll stand there at the front door barking up a storm and when I go to check who’s at the door, there is NO ONE there. There isn’t even anyone walking past the house. There aren’t even any squirrels. It’s merely annoying when he does this during the day. It’s down right spooky when he does it at night. It’s even spookier when he stands there with his hair standing on end and growls at the deserted front door at night. I don’t like that at all.
I suppose people who aren't dog lovers don't get why we would choose to put up with all the "dogginess," but, he’s awfully cute and snuggly, and we’ve had him since he was 8 weeks old. He picked me out when we went to “just look” at the puppies Drew’s aunt’s friend’s dog had had. Unless you’re ready to be a dog owner, never go to “just look” at puppies. You’ll end up with a dog. Oliver is the only dog I’ve ever owned. Drew had dogs growing up, but we didn’t, and we didn’t particularly want one, either. I told Drew when we were sitting there “just looking” and coming closer to deciding to adopt Oliver that I knew nothing about dogs and I’m kind of grossed out by the idea that when they get sick you have to clean up doggie vomit and when they have accidents you have to clean up doggie messes. Well, of course he said he’d take care of all of that. My husband is in the Army Reserves and he’s gone a lot. Guess who takes care of doggie messes? I got over it.
The first time I sprained my ankle happened when Oliver was just a little puppy, but he had been housebroken, and Drew was away at his “one weekend a month” Army drill. I managed to get myself back home and called Drew’s unit in tears because my ankle was swelling up as I sat there and I needed help. He came home. Meanwhile, puppy Oliver needed to go out. We lived in an apartment complex – no screened in back yard. I thought, he’s just a little puppy, he won’t go far, I’ll just let him out back and get him back in, then I don’t have to hobble around with him on his leash. Dumb, dumb, dumb. He didn’t go far, that’s true. He did his little puppy business and then promptly laid down in the grass right behind the back door. I called him and called him and he just looked at me like, “Who you calling? Surely it’s not me. I’m just enjoying the fresh air here, lady.” My ankle was so painfully swollen by that point I was hanging onto the door and crying and hoping some neighbor would come by and offer to help. Then Oliver decided it was time to come in, so he did. Then he sat on the couch next to me and looked very sad that his mommy person was hurt.
That was 11 years ago. Come to think of it, Oliver was pretty good preparation for parenthood in some ways. I got over a lot of my ick factor before kids came along. And he’s been a good little dog. You can tell from my picture that he spends a large bulk of his time sleeping on the couch. He thinks it is his. I don’t really want anyone to be in the market for my neurotic little dog. But he is driving me crazy these days.
1 comment:
You know, my dog was good parenting practice too. She was good for helping me know that getting up in the night wasn't the end of the world. By the time I had babies--I was used to it.
ALSO, I discovered while being dog owners but not yet parents that my husband was not ever going to hear our children in the night. Guess what? I was right.
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