Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Olive Schmolive

Right now Olive is eating something. Olive is always eating something. I no longer stick my finger in her mouth to find out what it is. I just decided if it's on the floor then we must not care if Olive eats it. It's all less disgusting this way. Until we scoop poop, then we know what she's be eating and we're disgusted, especially if we want it back. She's eating the tennis ball in this picture. You probably thought she was playing with it. You were wrong.

Right now she is also filling up this room with her maloforousness. It's the raw hides. Makes her gassy. Makes us wonder what we were thinking when we got another dog. Makes me wonder why I buy her the raw hides. Oh yeah, because she'll eat everything else if I don't.

Olive is at a point in her life that we all just have to get through. I think in human years she is about 4. Much like children at this age you have to constantly remind yourself to take the higher road, to ride this storm through because it's the right thing to do and because of Child Protection Services. With a puppy this is when we have to remind ourselves that in another year this will all have been worth it. Unlike my children she can be trained. Just one more year. I think we can make it.

She's certain she's a couch dog. I keep reminding her she is not in fact a couch dog. At first she started sneaking up on the couch when I wasn't in the room. She got up there and alligned herself with the 4 American Girl Dolls that were lined up sitting properly on the couch. Olive didn't pass for a doll so she got busted. But then the gutsy little sh... dog started jumping up on the couch WHILE I was sitting on the couch. I kept shooing her off. Then she jumped up and just sat there and I stared at her not knowing what to do. So she barked at me. OK, that does it. YOU are NOT a couch dog. Nobody is going to call Doggy Protective Services for you sweetheart.

Among some of her other favorite activities besides eating everything she can swallow are digging in my flowerbeds, tearing the flowers out of my flowerbeds and barking because I'm ignoring her. At first I was worried that she might ingest something that might be poisonous like a poinsettia or something. Now I'm planting poinsettias in my backyard...

The best way to describe Olive is ornery. I know we'll get through this because our last dog Phoebe, went through the same thing. I was fit to be tied with her antics and misbehavin' when she was a pup so my mom took her for a weekend while we were out of town. My mom was sure she would have her ship shape by the time we got back. Sometime during the weekend Phoebe jumped up on the guest bed in their house and peed in the middle of it. I'll never forget it. I don't think my mom has either. That's ornery.

Olive's not peeing in the house as much as she used to. She did poop in the girls' room though. I think she did it in the morning and we didn't realize it until the girls got home from school and went in their room and screamed at me that Olive had pooped in there. All day long I just kept thinking gee, I really need to clean my house, it stinks. What a relief to know I didn't have to clean after all.

I'd like to give a big shout out to Mr. Keibler for providing Olive with a nice big dog cage. The 24 inch dog cage we had was no longer big enough for our 32 inch dog. Phoebe was a long dog as well. I guess we like long dogs here. I'm just going to leave the rest of this paragraph to your imagination...

Anyway, we should be good with the 84 inch cage. Ok, it's probably not that big but I do know it holds Olive and all 3 kids comfortably. And I'm not going to reveal how I know that. I think we've changed our tornado safety place from the bedroom closet to Olive's cage. I'm pretty certain all 5 of us can fit in it and who knows, in another year if a tornado touches down in our neighborhood, we might let Olive in too.

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