Sissy here. I really am ashamed. Mom insists that getting it all out here will make me feel better, but I’m not so sure.
Over the span of just over five days, I’ve had a bit of a destructive spree. That there are no photos as evidence reflects both Mom’s ire and her underlying patience and understanding.
You see, other than a shoe or two – which I found loose on the bedroom floor as a young pup – the bobbin incident with Auntie ‘Nita is my only real destruction problem, prior to the recent string of events.
Mommy takes over now. If I was still considering myself Catholic and had a great priest, we’d be going to confession. I can’t even take Sis to the blessing of the hounds at my church, because it’s 10 months away and because the last thing I need is for Sis to hang out with REAL hunting dogs, who would encourage her desire to follow her nose to the ends of the earth.
The reason this story is here, and not on MY blog is that the timing is such that I think Sissy is hungry and seeking out things, as hounds in particular tend to do. Because of our fears of bloat, we don’t feed the dogs if we’re not going to be home with them for a while. So both Friday and Saturday evenings, Sissy and Gretchen were allowed to hang out in the master suite, as part of an on-going experiment (now on hold) to see if they still need to be crated.
Neither dog had eaten supper. We feed twice daily, around 7:30 am and 5:30 pm. However, they do get treats when we leave the house, and had been given a treat or two during the day on Saturday too. Saturday, they also drained their water bowl in the bathroom, so I was very tolerant of the frustration brought on by hunger AND thirst. (We were gone just over four hours and there was water in the bowl when we left, so no one was truly suffering.)
What destruction? Well, on Friday, Sissy created a fancy, sharp edge all the way around the bathroom trash can. And yes, it was Sissy; one advantage of having dogs so different in size is that their teeth prints are remarkably distinct. The trash can was replaced, and I actually apologized to the girls for the delay in their dining schedule which CLEARLY caused so much frustration.
Saturday, Sissy tore the cover off of a Bible. Yep… you read that correctly. Luckily, it was one I’d purchased for myself a couple of years ago (or more?) and it turned out to be a version/translation I did not like at all. It was published in a textbook style, so if she had to destroy a book in the bedroom… I’m still sorry it was a BIBLE. While the Knight was dispensing kibble, I cleaned up the small mess and placed it in the trash can with sharp edges.
However this morning, the girls had eaten, and I believed them to be wadded up in their cute fashion on the bed, as they usually are while I shower. I was concerned when I stepped out of the shower and didn’t see them. I was angry when I found them in the hall bath, trash overturned, with tissues EVERYWHERE.
After all the girls – especially me – had a time out while the Knight picked up trash (don’t give him too much credit; had HIS trash been dumped, there would have been nothing but the trash can for Sis to chomp on), I sighed deeply and announced that the vet and I need to talk.
Sissy isn’t a bad girl, or even a particularly naughty/nosy basset. I understand that wondervet wants Sissy as lean as possible for the sake of her back, but there’s also my sanity and the safety of my home at stake. This girl ain’t fat, and even if it lands us in the poor house (bag #2 of the dietary gold dust was ordered yesterday as we prepare for the January version of BIG SNOW), I’m increasing her kibble intake by 1/4 cup EACH meal.
Yes Sissy, we’re all on this journey together.