I haven’t been able to write lately because there is four feet of snow encompassing my home. I can not get out of my garage nor can I barely get out of my front door. That is no excuse not to write albeit my computer is five feet away from me in the study. Charly and I just stare at it. We googled exotic islands with the temperatures reading higher than 16 degrees celsius and drool together. Besides his drool would just freeze in these temps anyway. Everything else has. It is hard to get my puppy to go to the bathroom in freezing temps. I have a wonderful warm quilted coat that velcro’s around his torso while he ventures outside in the wintery bluster. He use to run from me when I would try to adhere this article of clothing around him but now now he begs me for it. He hated the sound the velcro made when I removed it from his sausage body. It makes the same sound as a novice esthetician in a chop chop salon attacking my legs with warm paraffin. I assured him his fur was intact and this was just a device to keep him warm. I watched another dog program featured on cable vision and they instructed new puppy owners to definitely keep their new pups warm. This show was called puppy 101. It taught you all the traits of owning a new puppy. I was glued to the T.V., I knew this was the answer to my puppy prayers. I was flunking out of Cesar Milan’s class because I couldn’t contain my whisper, especially after he baptized the hallway with another excitatory excretion. I do believe every room in our house has been privy to Charly’s seepage. I really can’t blame him because I wouldn’t want to go out in sub zero temperatures and rest my tiny chi-hua-hua ass on glaciate apertures. I recall once when I was hiking in the Olympic mountains with a few fun friends and having to relieve myself in an area that didn’t harbor latrines. I sat my then size two tuschie onto a makeshift potty made by the ice princess her self. My warm ass stuck to the crystal commode and my stream of hot urine sent smoke signals to the forrest ranger. There were no walls to protect me or give me the privacy I deserved from the wildlife; I just had to grin and BARE it much like my pup does every time I take him out to relieve himself. I feel his pain and humiliation. I try to shield his discomfort of having to expose his potty ritual to the entire public by fanning my full length cashmere coat around him as if I were Batman ready dive off from the Empire State Building after the Joker. You can’t tell me a dog doesn’t feel embarassed having to do something amongst the public that we do in the privacy of our own bathrooms. It almost makes me want to build a doggie outhouse. Yeah, maybe stock it with a copy of the Wall Street Journal. Let Charly have his privacy moments and bathroom time alone just like we do. I wonder if he’ll replace the toilet paper roll when it’s empty or be like the rest of the family and leave it for me. My husband put an “easy” button from Staples in out guest powder room. I guess he thought it would be funny if people saw that red button and would get the joke after having spent a half hour in the toilet trying to eliminate last nights dinner. He taught Charly how to press the “easy ” button with his paw. Now every time Charly has an “accident” in the house he runs over to the “easy” button and reminds us how easy that was….Now my dog poops on command form Staples latest advertising ploy. Much like Pavlov’s dog; I’ve got Staple’s string along.. Maybe Ill have Charly accompany me to the cha ching-chain store and waltz him up to customer service with his new winter quilt wrap and have him drop off his package at the UPS counter…………..
That was easy.