Today I walked in the door and the big dog growled and cowered. Crap. Back to that again? Only this time it wasn't anything off the counters (thank you month of mouse trapping, thank you). Nope, it was the bathroom garbage... chewed to pieces all over the living room rug. A first for us. Awesome. A new obsession. I am certainly willing to take some responsibility in this- I have been neglecting the big dog (and the little dog) something terrible lately. But it couldn't be helped. And seriously? We're taking revenge on my poor tired self by eating the bathroom garbage? Gross. There has got to be a better way. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Dogs are gross. There's simply no getting around that.
And strangely, there is something comforting about coming home to a gross dog moment. There's enough high level stress in my life right now that coming home to that was strangely comforting (though gross). Okay, someone commit me. I just admitted that on my blog. Oy. Maybe I'm more exhausted than I thought.
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