We arrived home tonight about 7 p.m., long day of work behind us, to a bit of a surprise.
Looking in the window, there were dozens of dog toys littering the living room. I left the house today at 10:45, the toys in the dogs’ toybox, but we have a friend’s college-age son walking them at midday. I figured he let them play with the toys and left them where they were when he left — no problem.
Except, that’s not what happened. As I took out my keys to unlock the door, Annie saw Sophie in the living room, loose. Loose?!? Was Rosie out, too? Sophie had escaped from her pen, somehow leaving Rosie behind. What happened? Did she leap the gate?
Turns out that Carlo left the lower gate hinge unlocked — or so we think — and Sophie, who is the burlier of the two pups, pushed her way through. Rosie, thinner and faster, probably couldn’t do so.
It was a bit of a scare, but there was no damage — Sophie confined her business to the newspapers by the entranceway and we’d closed the doors to the bedrooms.
But it was the culmination (I hope) to a trying week during which both Annie and I were at the end of our wits — they weren’t listening, were peeing in the house, picking up every leaf and stick outside and eating them — just a very frustrating time.
I think we my have contributed to it, however, because we forgot that they were puppies and were showing our frustration. And in our effort to not hit the dogs or react in anger, we were coming off whiny and losing control of them.
I’m hoping that, by recognizing our own failings in this mission, we can do a better job with them, take control and regain our own sanity.
Hank Kalet 