No Gardening on Account of Dogs
Although it was fully my intent to start weeding yesterday, it was not to be.
It’s the dogs’ fault. Charlie and Rosie spent the day at the vet, getting their teeth scaled. For those unfamiliar with the process, it requires knocking out your pet so the vet can scrape all those coffee and tobacco stains (well, that’s what they look like) off your pup’s teeth.
My plan was to pick up the dogs from their ordeal right after work, then start in with The Weeding in the front yard. But the vet told me that I should try to keep the pups quiet when we got home as they recovered from their ordeal.
Well, there’s no possibility of my weeding in the front yard without Charlie and Rosie absolutely losing their minds at being excluded, and standing in the living room barking and barking and barking for me to COME IN NOW. Thus, in spite of the balmy almost-70-degree weather and soft sunshine, I found myself planted on the couch in the living room instead with my pups.
Rosie was happy to nap in the recliner, nursing her sorrow at having a lower incisor pulled (I’m pretty sure it was her favorite one). But it was Charlie who provided the entertainment that made up for missing out on a perfect gardening day.
Poor little guy was exhausted, no doubt from the residual effects of the anesthesia but also from the excitement and drama of the day. But like a three-year-old who does NOT want to go to bed, Beagle was fighting tooth and nail to stay awake, refusing to lie down. As a result, I watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, his eyes slowly drooping and drooping until they were closed, his little body swaying slightly until he nearly tipped over before jerking awake. And then the cycle would begin again.
He did this all evening.
Only when we took him up to bed with us did he finally allow himself to lie down and then OUT he was in an instant, Rosie curled up beside him on our bed. Normally we let the pups snooze on the bed until we turn out the lights. This time, however, we didn’t have the heart. Thus, Mulch and I clung to the edges of our respective sides of the bed while Charlie and Rosie slept comfortably in the middle, recovering from the stresses of the day.
It’s the dogs’ fault. Charlie and Rosie spent the day at the vet, getting their teeth scaled. For those unfamiliar with the process, it requires knocking out your pet so the vet can scrape all those coffee and tobacco stains (well, that’s what they look like) off your pup’s teeth.
My plan was to pick up the dogs from their ordeal right after work, then start in with The Weeding in the front yard. But the vet told me that I should try to keep the pups quiet when we got home as they recovered from their ordeal.
Well, there’s no possibility of my weeding in the front yard without Charlie and Rosie absolutely losing their minds at being excluded, and standing in the living room barking and barking and barking for me to COME IN NOW. Thus, in spite of the balmy almost-70-degree weather and soft sunshine, I found myself planted on the couch in the living room instead with my pups.
Rosie was happy to nap in the recliner, nursing her sorrow at having a lower incisor pulled (I’m pretty sure it was her favorite one). But it was Charlie who provided the entertainment that made up for missing out on a perfect gardening day.
Poor little guy was exhausted, no doubt from the residual effects of the anesthesia but also from the excitement and drama of the day. But like a three-year-old who does NOT want to go to bed, Beagle was fighting tooth and nail to stay awake, refusing to lie down. As a result, I watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, his eyes slowly drooping and drooping until they were closed, his little body swaying slightly until he nearly tipped over before jerking awake. And then the cycle would begin again.
He did this all evening.
Only when we took him up to bed with us did he finally allow himself to lie down and then OUT he was in an instant, Rosie curled up beside him on our bed. Normally we let the pups snooze on the bed until we turn out the lights. This time, however, we didn’t have the heart. Thus, Mulch and I clung to the edges of our respective sides of the bed while Charlie and Rosie slept comfortably in the middle, recovering from the stresses of the day.
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