In the Dog House

If we had a dog house, my dog would SO be in it tonight. Most days, he is the only bit of sanity I have in my life.  He demands little and gives much. He calms me with his sympathetic stares, and allowing me to pet his soft head.  I joke that he is a "furry human", because he just seems above the others of his species...until today.  Today, he was a just a dog. A very mindless, playful, exuberant, sort of dumb dog.

I was getting ready to leave for work this morning, and I noticed as I passed the back door, that he was leaping around in the backyard.  For those of you that do not own a labradoodle, this is code for I am very happy and excited. It is a leap and a pounce, repeated as many times as necessary to convey enthusiasm. I didn't think a whole lot about it, except, "Aw isn't he cute?" He never did come to the door to come inside of his own volition, and I had to call him, several times. I saw something in his mouth, gray, but from the distance I assumed it was a stick.  I could tell in that doggy brain of his that he was debating whether or not I meant business.  Finally he dropped his treasure, and ran full speed for the door.  Clearly, he thought he was going to get to for a "car car ride". That sequence of words should never be uttered in his presence unless you really mean to take him out cruising.  He was disappointed that I left him behind, it was all over his face, and I felt badly for him.  Until later today....

When I arrived home from work, I let him outside again. Several minutes passed, and I realized he wasn't begging to be let back inside.  This is unusual, because he wants to soak in as much human time as possible after being left to his own devices for several hours.  I went to the door to check on him, and I noticed him in that same exact spot in the yard that he had been this morning. He was nudging something with his nose.  Time to investigate. I had a knowing feeling, even before I arrived, that I was going to encounter something disturbing.  Much to my horror, I spot him sitting next to a dead baby bunny. I freaked out. He was a bunny killer, and so close to Easter too! I marched him into the house and closed him in the back bathroom, until I determined how to sanitize him properly.

The "wild" animal had been in his mouth! A mouth that licks most members of this family! Argh! He was in solitary confinement most of the afternoon as I pondered my sanitizing options.  I finally got a rag, doused it generously with Listerine, and began scrubbing his teeth, tongue, lips, and facial hair. He was not a fan, even though it was the minty Listerine.  I decided that probably wasn't sufficient, so I pulled out his razor, shaved his "beard" completely off, and a good portion of his "mustache"....yes, he looks a wee bit homely now. For extra good measure, I cleaned his paws with rubbing alcohol. I felt fairly satisfied with my efforts, that is until my husband said, "Do you realize what he probably gets into that we don't know about?  You just happened to catch him this time."  These words did not bring any comfort to my Howard Hughes-like OCD whatsoever.

I realize he didn't mean to harm the bunny.  He was simply playing, and wondering why his playmate didn't move the second time around. Poor germy bunny.  My immediate thought was, "he should have known better!", but honestly, my human children make poor choices almost daily, and trust me, they DO know better. But I still felt betrayed.  He is my ally in this house, when the rest of my family is seemingly working against me, and today he failed.

He knows he isn't back in his mommy's good graces.  He keeps casting forlorn glances my direction, but I am just not in the mood to overlook his inferior doggy mentality today.  Perhaps tomorrow I will be ready to forgive my furry boy, but tonight he is in the dog house, aka, on the bedroom FLOOR and not on the bed.