Sometimes my dogs drive me freaking crazy

If you know me at all, you know I love my furry friends.

But sometimes they drive me bat-shit crazy.

Yesterday, a guy was over setting up my new Internet (yeah, I finally have another option besides satellite – no more data caps for me).

Of course, this guy had to come into the house.

My current pack of dogs (and yes, I have a pack) are all pretty laid back and friendly. I don’t know how they’d act if I wasn’t home but when I am they’re cool.

So, I asked the guy if he was scared of dogs and he said no. He came in the house and my hound, Sassy, started barking.

It wasn’t a friendly, “Hey, how you doing?” bark. So, I grabbed her and locked her in the master bedroom.

She was in there for about 30 minutes, barking and carrying on.

When the guy left, I opened the door to the master bedroom and just stood there as Sassy happily sauntered past me – tail up, proud, and with a spring in her step.

She’d peed on the bed and not just a dribble or even one puddle.

Streaks of urine.

Lines of it from one end of the bed to the other.

Apparently, she’d run all over the California King pissing away.

Luckily (I can’t believe I can even use this word in this story), I keep a plastic cover under the sheet for “accidents” like this.

(I don’t really think this was an accident. I think she was mad about being locked up and decided to show me.)

Look at this face. She’s never sorry for anything except getting caught.

She’s been trouble in a cute package since the day I found her and put her in my car, like some weird dog-kidnapper. (I did try and find her home but had no luck.)

This picture was taken a few years earlier but I know, she wasn’t sorry today. Not at all.

I tore everything off the bed, cleaned the plastic sheeting and the floor where she’d also peed and then went into my master bathroom to wash up.

Again. Me. Dead in my tracks.

Sassy had gotten into the litter box in the bathroom and she must’ve dug because there was litter strewn all over the bathroom floor.

And I mean all over.

But she wasn’t done.

Oh, no.

After tossing litter all over the place, she’d gone to the rug that’s outside of my shower and pooped and she didn’t just poop on the rug. Oh no, that would’ve been too mundane for the crime of locking her alone in a room.

She somehow managed to poop on the rug, in my shower and smeared it on the ledge that you step over to get into my shower.

I went into the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies – again — and made sure to send her some pretty dirty looks. She did have the decency to look a little guilty, but nowhere near enough sooth my temper.

When all the messes were cleaned up, I took the four dogs outside for their walk and then came back in to feed them.

I went into the kitchen and got their dinner ready. This took about 5-10 minutes. Remember, we’d just gone on a twenty minute walk.

I went back into the living room and Tricks, my Belgian Malnois,

who’s about fifteen had pooped all over her bed.

I still love them (I think. No, I do. Really, I do) but sometimes I really don’t know why.