Monday, November 30, 2009

When A Puggle Goes Rogue


Ever have those late Friday nights out on the town when you can't necessarily give your 4-legged friend the utmost attention he/she may need after work before you go out?  Yeah, me too, and here is what can happen....

There are those days that all Oates gets is a quick backyard bathroom break, hug and kiss, dinner, and then swiftly gets ushered back to his house for the night.  It happens.  That's life.

These nights usually end up in me getting home past 1am or later, quickly letting him out one more time, and then quickly falling asleep on the couch.

Oates is a lucky puggle and gets to sleep with me.  Rarely does he have to sleep in his kennel, but perhaps on nights like these, he should.  As I fall asleep on the couch, he's got other plans in mind.

This is his chance.  Ultimate freedom he thinks.  Mom and Dad will never wake up, no matter what i do!  His mind must be racing as he pretends to fall sleep, sweetly curled up next to me.  Little do I know that he is scheming his inevitable destruction of something valuable in the house.
Did I learn when I woke up and found my laptop cord chewed up?  Did I learn when I woke up to the dvd remote destroyed?  Did I learn when he tore off a corner of the couch cushion and decided to de-fuzz it like one of his plush toys? Apparently not... This time, it got personal.

Of all things... my cute little puggle in paradise destroyed our palm tree, Walter.  As you can see, he chewed the roots clean, and as you can't necessarily see, there was absolutely not a lick of dirt left in the pot.  Yes, he got every last bit of dirt out onto the floor, under and in the chair and heaped up next to the stairway.  Knocking over the magazine basket was just a bonus, I'm sure.  
I was lucky to be able to salvage my 2009 Ikea catalog out of the rubble, but my last issue of Dwell was not so lucky.  Doused in wet mud/dirt, it went straight to the recycling bin.  

Another obviously causality was our Majesty Palm.  It was so big and grand before... now all that remains is a single palm.  Lonely.  Beaten.  Traumatized.  Surprisingly enough, it has not yet died, and has a few new palm sprigs coming up... but only time will tell if it can survive until spring.

Next time?  Oates gets to stay in his house all night.  He just can't be trusted.

1 comment:

  1. oh oates! you naughty puggle. i am going to put this on my blog today. the puggle posse, i am sure, will appreciate this entry. :)

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