Diesel in A Day: Our Boxer/Shepherd – or – Captain Desctructo
It’s an adventure. The puppy we all fell in love with is a terrorist in training and I love him all the more for it. I don’t know why it doesn’t frustrate me beyond reasoning to have to take away objects he’s stolen and replace them with things he’s allowed to have throughout the day. But thus far, the list of takeaways has been as follows: A paper towel; a blanket; Nelson’s food (he’s our other dog); one of Joe’s socks; my hair kerchief for gardening when it’s windy; another paper towel (don’t let me kid you, there have been *several of these, shredded); a *roll of paper towels; one of Seth’s mittens; his stuffed cheetah from the zoo ,one of my shoes, one of Joe’s slippers and at least one of Olivia’s pieces of clothing, stuffed animals and outerwear each.
This is all in one day.
He doesn’t have a lot of accidents, but when he does, they ironically take place in the bathroom – guess he figures if we “go” in there, he should be allowed to as well. I have this absurd urge to try and teach him to use the actual toilet but we’ll squelch that ambition for now.
I thought he was a sleepy guy – lazy. Not so. He was not feeling well. Now…he bounces when he moves in such a way that his full name has become: Diesel Egon (of “Ghost Busters” fame) “Tigger” Dogg (the first). That’s our boy. That way, I get to say “Diesel Dogg”! I know. I can ‘t help it.
We formally adopted him Thursday, so that’s that. He’s stuck with us or the other way around if you will.
