Licorice is having kind of a tough week.
First there was the long holiday weekend, which meant people were home all the time—YAY!—and then strangers were here—BOO! Except FOOD! YAYYY!—and then people were home but the doorbell was ringing a lot.
We’ll never know what Licorice’s life was like before she came to us, but I strongly believe at some earlier point in her development, every time the doorbell chimed, someone kicked this sweet little pup in the face. It’s the only explanation I can think of that justifies the way she loses her ever-lovin’ mind whenever someone comes to the door. She runs in circles and barks her head off and generally has a mighty conniption. (Yes, we’ve taken her to training. Yes, I can get her to shut up and sit down when she’s doing it, but as soon as I stop LOOKING DIRECTLY AT HER she goes back to freaking out, and as I find it kind of funny I haven’t bothered working on it further with her. I know, I’m a terrible, negligent doggy-mama.)
And, see, ’tis the season of Amazon Lightning Deals, which means the UPS guy is here a LOT. Also the FedEx guy, sometimes.
[In my defense: I won't deny loving the Amazon Lightning Deals. But I tend to buy small/cheap items and then EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM comes in a separate box, so it ends up with a few weeks of the UPS guy thinking I'm a secret compulsive shopper/hoarder, I'm sure. Yesterday we got eight boxes. The shiny new pressure washer for Otto excepted, the contents received probably totalled about $50. But SO MANY BOXES, man.]
So. Licorice. Times are tough, man. With the people, and the doorbells, and all that turkey that was NOT falling into her open mouth. Sadness!
We noticed over the weekend that she was chewing on one of her hind feet. We distracted her with something shiny and she stopped, but the next day, she was back at it. I did a quick inspection and discovered that she had some sort of sore on top of one of her toes. (Of course dogs have toes.) I tried to wrap it up so that she couldn’t mess with it, but she literally leapt out of my crude bandage on her first couch dismount, so that was the end of that. I told Otto that if she wasn’t better by Monday, I’d call the vet. We spent a couple of days removing her foot from her mouth periodically, and by Monday she’d stopped chewing and it looked fine. Crisis—and cone of shame—averted. (No idea what that was all about, by the way. Did she hurt it on something? Was she just being neurotic and gave herself the sore via chewing? I guess we’ll never know.)
In the meantime, Monday brought a load of boxes and a lot of barking and running in circles and the general short-circuiting of her little walnut-sized brain. And THEN Monkey brought Mario home after school, so THAT was terribly exciting as well.
Know what happens when Monkey and Mario are together? I don’t really know, but I can tell you that whatever it is, it is LOUD. So very loud. Fortunately, it was a beautiful day, so I put the dog on a leash, gave the leash to the boys, and locked them all out of the house. PROBLEM SOLVED. Licorice dragged the boys down to the pond and they were all gone for a brief but blessed period of silence.
Upon their return, Licorice was covered in mud. She received a brisk toweling and some fur-brushing (OH THE HUMANITY) and then ran off to hide from the boys, who resumed being very loud right outside my office. (This is a decent-sized house with plenty of room for everyone, but I can tell you with absolute authority that the only fun place to be ever is RIGHT OUTSIDE MY OFFICE DOOR, particularly if you’re yelling. Trust me.)
The rest of the afternoon passed happily for all concerned, and it wasn’t until Mario’s mom came to pick him up that Licorice decided to yak up a gallon of pond water in the middle of my office. (“Welcome to my lovely home. This is my office, and this is a puddle of dog vomit.”) For some reason this seemed to expedite our guests’ departure—I cannot imagine why—and as I ran for the paper towels and spray cleaner, Monkey mused that Licorice HAD had quite a lot of pond water to drink, and did I think maybe that wasn’t good for dogs?
Know what our pond has a lot of? Geese. Licorice’s tiny brain bleats “GIANT CHICKENS! GIANT CHICKENS!” when she sees them, but apparently any brain matter that might register, “Hey, this water tastes like goose poop” was not included with this model. Now we know.
But hey, guess what I got on a Lightning Deal last week. A carpet cleaning machine! Hooooray! I shooed all living creatures out of my office and put all of the moveable things up on top of the immovable things and then I SpinBrushed the CRAP outta that carpet. (Er, I guess technically I SpinBrushed the PUKE outta the carpet.) The good news is that worked pretty well. The bad news is that the dirty water bucket pretty much made me want to burn this house to the ground and start over.
Today it’s raining and Licorice has just refused to go outside at all (she’s delicate!), so any minute now I expect her to combust and I’ll have to get out the carpet cleaner, again. On the up side, if that happens she won’t be around to go ballistic when UPS comes, I guess.