no more bedhead

It's been five years since the dog came home.

I might be warming up to him.

Four years. This dog has been here for four years now. Apparently, he thinks he's staying, and is making himself comfortable - in my bed.

It's been three years now.

You know what I'm talking about.

It's the dog.  Still here.

Here's my annual nice thing I'll say about the dog:

He is nice and warm when he curls up on the couch with us on those cold winter nights.


But, he drools all over my lap when I take him to the bank drive-through as he almost leaps into the teller window knowing they're going to give him a dog biscuit.  So I guess it's even.

Two years ago today my wife brought home The Dog.  I think my reaction to The Dog have been well documented. But, in the spirit of generosity, and seeing how it is the Christmas season, I would like to say something nice about The Dog.

I like riding around town with the dog in the car.  He sits in the passenger seat and looks out the front window.

There.  That's all you're getting.

It's been one year with the dog.

Still don't want a dog.

But it could be worse. (There -don't say I'm not warming up to the idea.)

This is my computer on crack...


So, I'm sitting on the porch Tuesday. The window is open. I hear a dull thud from inside the house. I go in and find my computer lying open and flat on the floor. The dog is running circles around the table. I look at the computer and it appears that the screen is shattered. F-ing dog.

Note that I say this now calmly. I was not calm at the time.

I was, in fact, a half hour from leaving the house to deliver web conferencing equipment to a church. A church that that particular evening, did not have access to a computer. I had volunteered to bring mine, so we could get everything set up.

Great.

I did quickly discover that I could plug in an external monitor and the hard drive appeared to be working just fine. That helped for the delivery. One of the things I was delivering was a projector. I could plug that in and see what was happening on the computer.

I called Dell the next morning, and was told that it would cost $350 to fix. While that was about half the price of the computer when I bought it, it didn't seem unreasonable. I had done some research and learned that replacement lcd screens were in the $150-250 range. The Dell deal started to fall apart when "Rock" (I don't know where these technicians in Delhi come up with their "American" names- and yes, he spelled it to me R-o-c-k) said that it would take 8 business days from the time they received it before they would ship it back.

I balked. Rock said that he could "expedite" it (but never 'splained what that meant), and that he talked to his manager, and they could knock $50 off the price. (What is this, Priceline?) And, oh, by the way, have you noticed a problem with your battery? The batteries are only designed to be good for a year, and it could fry your motherboard.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Next day, went down to the local computer store. They had the lcd panel that I needed sitting on a shelf. An hour later, and $270 on my credit card, I was back in business. Sweet. (And they've never heard of a battery frying a motherboard.)

The moral here: don't get a dog.

The dog is back.

I've had four blissful days, sans dog. Ellen took him to the vet on Thursday morning for "the surgery" (he's now half the dog he used to be). It was a glorious weekend, full of peace, laughter, frivolity, and harmony. Unfortunately, he had to come back home today. He's already started peeing in the living room, tearing trash out of the garbage can, jumping on top of us, and causing general mayhem. Not to mention terrorizing the cats (whether by his actions, or in their minds).

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Update: Just to clarify, the surgery didn't put the dog out for four days. He was actually done in a matter of hours. But, we had a diocesan conference from Friday night through Saturday, so the vet kept the dog. We were supposed to pick up the dog on Saturday night, but the vet had a concert to go to, so we agreed that we'd pick him up on Sunday. Still, I got all day Thursday and all day Friday, plus a couple of bonus days!

So Ol'Leghumper went to the vet. Doc says he (the dog) might be a Black Lab/Golden Retriever mix. He is currently 30 pounds, and is expected to double in size. And he's 12-16 weeks old. Ellen figures it's closer to 16.

1. They don't use a litter box.


2. They leave poop bombs in the yard.


3. I'm going to have to clean up poop bombs in the yard.


4. They need room to run


5. You can't leave them for the weekend with a big pile of food and know that they'll be fine


6. I'm going to end up taking care of it.


7. We already have 4 kids, 3 cats, and 2 adults crammed into a tiny house


8. I'm going to end up taking care of it.


9. We already had to put a cat on prozac for anxiety disorders, what will this do to her?


10. I'm going to end up taking care of it, I just know it

So the deal is that the dog got dumped by the mother of one of the parents at the school. So the story goes, she took her kid and the dog out in their van, and made the kid open the door and dump the dog out. It made its way to school where it sat in Ellen's room all day. Now it's ours. I'm glad it has a good home, compared to the one it came from, but dammit, I don't want another animal to take care of.

I'm sure that in the long run everything will be fine, and he will be a nice addition to the family, and we'll get all those logistical details worked out, but I don't like change!

So, I guess the dog's okay. The kids are going nuts and everyone wants to play with him and take him out for a walk. I hope that lasts. He's a pretty good dog so far. He likes to play tug-of-war with his rope chew toy, and he is full of energy. He goes, goes, goes, then crashes and sleeps. Then the cycle repeats.


I am resigned to my fate, but I will try to make the best of it. At least he's cute. (And yes, he does open his eyes.)