I have the day off today. And my goal is to have my butt out the door by noon because I’m an errand queen today. I wish it wasn’t so gray outside; I could have used this free time to work on my flower bed (yes… still not done… shut up). The sad thing is I’m doing exactly what I do when I’m at work right now: I’m at a desk, sipping on coffee, catching up on my Google Reader before drowning myself in excel spreadsheets and reports and graphs and charts. But I don’t have to do spreadsheets or reports or graphs or charts today. That makes me smile.
So I know I’ve been talking about the doggins a lot this week. And I figured the best way to wrap up this week o’ doggins was to talk about the other one, the one that does tricks and can hear: Chase.
I told you about Chevy slaughtering the dog toys. Now Chase does not destroy toys. She does like to partake in the removing of stuffing from stuffed animals but plastic toys don’t look like appetizers to her. She used to be a big fan of them. And then Chevy came along, started eating all of them and we got Chase her own stash for when she was home alone. She doesn’t even blink at them anymore. She needs a hippo. Or a fluffy man. Or something with stuffing. And she slowly makes her way through it. For the most part, she takes care of her toys. But like most mammals, she has a weakness.
Last spring, the hubs and I went to a little get together. I think it was to watch UFC or basketball or something and we thought we’d be clever little peeps and provide the party with a Crave Case from White Castle. For those of you who don’t have WC nearby, it’s similar to Krystals. Little hamburgers with translucent onions and pickles on top. Lovingly referred to as “sliders” or “whiteys”. They’re tasty. But they’ll do a number on your colon if you don’t watch your intake. A Crave Case is a cardboard shaped suitcase and has 30 sliders tucked inside – we got 15 regular and 15 plain as the hubs does not like onion and pickle on his burgers.
The Crave Case got some laughs (as expected) and they were eaten (as expected) but a few remained untouched. The hubs brought them home thinking he’d snack on them over the weekend. And he did – removing every pickle and speck of onion that touched the patty. I didn’t realize that he just threw the boxes with all these goodies back into the Crave Case. And I didn’t pay attention to the fact that it wasn’t place in a trash can but rather beside it. But Chase did. Damn dog.
This is what I came home to [I place notes on the photos on flickr]:
I took the pictures with my Paco to have proof to the hubs that Chase not only managed to open the case and take out every left over box, but that she tore them into to shreds in search of pickle and onion. Evidence that she only opened one dusseldorf mustard packet… but every ketchup packet was opened AND empty. Apparently ketchup is more her thing, not brown mustard. This was a colossal mess. It took forever to pick it up and even longer to scrub the tile and carpet with traces of ketchup.
The thing is, Chase knew she’d done bad. Ears were back, tail between her legs, she avoided me like the plague. Like that every time she does something bad. I’m sure she was all smiles when she tore into that cardboard to find the motherload. I really wanted to leave it for Mike to pick it up – it was his fault that it even happened because he didn’t dispose of it properly. But with the BDD and all… that wasn’t feasible.
Even the best dogs do bad things. The occasionally counter surf happens. The ingesting of Amish friendship batter happens. As does pork chop sandwiches [and the foil they were wrapped in]. Chevy mutilates dog toys; Chase consumes tubes of chapstick. Ugh… it’s part of being a canine parent. I still love ’em after the fact.