I’ve done some gross things in my day.   Being a parent, it comes with the territory.  I’ve cleaned up my share of explosive diarrhea.  One time my son vomited a whole meal’s worth of chili.  From the top of a bunk bed.   It took me 2 days to get chili out of the carpet, off the walls and in the cracks and crevices of the bed.  Fun times.

But nothing–NOTHING–compared to a recent experience that I had with my dog.

I was just getting out of the shower when I heard my husband yelling, “Sherrelle, come quick!”   Thinking something was wrong with one of the kids, I ran downstairs in a towel where I was further summoned outside.  Throwing on a coat and my slippers I go out into the winter morning to see my son standing on the sidewalk holding our puppy, Chili Dawg.  And in his mouth is a dead squirrel.

Let’s stop for a minute and rewind.  Did you notice that my husband called me outside?  To take a dead squirrel out of my dog’s mouth while he watched from the porch?   And this is not the first time that I was asked to handle a dead squirrel.  When my dad removed a dead squirrel from our attic he handed it down to me in a trash bag, because he knows that my husband (who was standing right there) wasn’t going anywhere near it.

I’m not squeamish, but even I have my limits.  A dead squirrel in a trash bag is not the same as one hanging out of my dog’s mouth.  Oh, let me clarify: this wasn’t a dead squirrel (like from the attic); my dog had picked up squirrel road kill on his walk.   It was about 3/4 of a squirrel–minus the head–with blood and guts spilling out.  Yeah.

I actually tried to find photo online to accompany this story and there were many to choose from.  For some disturbing reason people take photos of squirrel road kill.   But I couldn’t bring myself to use a photo…my stomach turned just looking at the Google images.  I don’t believe that I will ever look at a squirrel the same again.

As disgusting as it was–AND IT WAS DISGUSTING–what choice did I have?  My kids couldn’t do it and my husband wasn’t going to do it.  My dog’s health depended upon me removing the squirrel from his mouth.  Which was not going to be easy, I could tell.  He had a death-grip on that squirrel and no amount of cajoling or bribing him with treats was working, so I put on rubber gloves and pried his mouth open.  To do this I was very close to the dead squirrel and the smell and site of squirrel guts was over-whelming.  I dry-heaved several times in the process, but finally pried the squirrel out of Chili Dawg’s mouth and threw it on the ground.   I disposed of most of the squirrel pieces before one final heave told me that I had reached my limit.  My husband (watching from the porch) saw that I could go no further and finished picking up the last bit of squirrel guts from the sidewalk.    I spent the next half hour sitting on the porch washing Chili Dawg’s face and brushing his teeth.

Still naked under my coat.

And that was the most disgusting thing that I’ve ever done.

On the 3rd day of Christmas my true love gave to me:

…..Chili Dawg.  Look at my puppy in his Santa hat; isn’t he too adorable?

As much work as it is having a puppy (and it’s a lot of work), it’s just as much fun.  I love his combination of exuberance and innocence; looking at him makes me laugh and he is a joyous part of my life.

We’re really looking forward to spending our first Christmas with Chili.  (Okay, the kids and are are excited; I can hear my husband now, “Stop!  No!  Argh!  Someone put that dog away!”  Chili’s antics frustrate him).  I bought Chili a stocking and it’s ready to be filled with treats, toys and balls (his favorite).  I was really worried about him bothering the Christmas tree because he can be really mischievous, but so far so good.   He’s taken a drink a few times, but mostly he stays away.  Now, it isn’t totally decorated yet, just the lights, so I do think that he will try to steal ornaments once they are on there.  And putting presents under the tree unprotected is out of the question because he loves to tear up paper.  I guess that I need to put a play pen around the tree or some kind of barrier; how ugly is that going to look?

What about you?  If you ever had a puppy at Christmastime, how did you keep him away from the tree?

*******************

The 12 Days of Christmas by Funkidivagirl

On the 1st day of Christmas my true love gave to me…..the words to the song.

On the 2nd day of Christmas my true love gave to me….Christmas cards.

I had to solve the mystery; Chili Dawg was escaping out of his pen and I had to find out how so I set up my Flip Video Camera and went to Target.  Our family theory was that Chili Dawg got excited when he heard the garage door open and jumped out to greet us.  Therefore, I fully expected the camera to run out before I could catch him in the act or even still find him in his pen upon my return.    Oh, was I wrong!  This is what happened when I was gone:

I edited the video to only a few minutes, but he escaped about 30 minutes after I left, right after he finished eating his LickALots.  I was gone for 2 hours, so that means that he was running loose in the house for 90 minutes!  I saw that he got into the closet in my absence; there were hats and scarves strewn all about the living room.  But he didn’t potty in the house and nothing was destroyed.  Nevertheless, now that I have proof of his escape, that’s the end of that.  From now on he will be put in the bathroom when we leave home.

Did you hear his victorious bark when he leap onto the sofa?  Even though I am not happy about his escape, I have to admit this puppy has moxie!

Something mysterious has been happening with Chili Dawg and we can’t figure out how he’s doing this.  He’s a very smart dog and now we fear, too smart.  THREE TIMES this week we have left home with Chili Dawg in his pen and have come home to this:

an empty pen–still locked–and Chili Dawg greeting us at the door.  This pen is 30″ high, but somehow he is able to jump out, scale the sides or teleport himself.   I think the first time was a fluke, the 2nd time was to see if he could do it again and now by the 3rd time he knows exactly how to get out.   Next time I walk in the door I expect to see him laying on the sofa watching a movie and eating popcorn.  Obviously we need to find other ways to confine Chili Dawg when we’re not a home

Chili is full of hijinks.   We have to push the chairs away from the table or otherwise this happens:

And it is not unusual to see a whole roll of toilet paper unraveled in the bathroom.

All attempts to keep him off the sofa lead to this:

My husband is not amused.

Chili Dawg is a handful, a rascal, a SCOUNDREL, but he’s my puppy and I love him so much.  Look, this is a photo that I tore out of a magazine years ago; I knew instantly that it was my dog.  I taped it in my “dream notebook” and forgot about it until I blogged last year about wanting a dog.

And now look at this photo of Chili Dawg.  See, Chili Dawg was in my heart, even before he was born.

*Not only do I blog about my puppy, Chili Dawg also has a Facebook fan page!  Click on the badge to the left to become a fan, keep up with his status updates and to see more photos.  I have officially become “one of those dog people” that my friend @StuMcDnld talks about makes fun of on Twitter.