I imagine many people awake in the morning to the scent of coffee brewing, the aroma of eggs and bacon wafting throughout the house, thanks to a thoughtful significant other. Now don’t get me wrong; none of that describes my mornings. For instance, take Thursday morning last week.
You know that sound people make when they’re about to vomit? Sort of a dry heaving that comes in 3 second rhythms until it’s no longer dry? You know what I mean if you’ve ever had food poisoning or possibly one too many Moscow Mules. So I immediately recognized what was happening on the floor of my bedroom.
Go easy on these
You see, my latest mutt, Taffy, has taken to eating cat litter. Just another non-endearing trait from this adorably obnoxious canine. At least it’s corn-based litter, which might be the attraction. But her obsession with it is unwavering and my attempts to block her from that room (while giving the cats access) have obviously proven unsuccessful.
So it’s been nearly 4 months since I adopted Taffy, a 2 1/2 year old female Chihuahua mix. If you remember, I’ve already blogged about her twice. And although she simply can’t be much cuter, she’s not exactly what I expected from our initial meeting. In other words, don’t let cute fool you.
Now don’t get me wrong. I adore that little pain in the ass who’s only slightly bigger than a gnat. But when all is said and done, Taffy misrepresented herself when we first met. Yes, she’s a sly one, that gal. She caught my eye with her adorableness, but I wasn’t alone. On walks at the shelter, nobody passed by who didn’t comment on that sweet face. Her cuteness is like a magnet pulling you in. And trust me, she uses it to full advantage.
While I fostered Taffy after she had puppies, she was on her best behavior. I mean, she’s no dummy. She saw a sucker coming and thought, here’s my chance to escape the shelter and go home with this lady who I bet has a bunch of animals I can play with. And she was right.
Last week you met Taffy, the latest member of my furry family. So now I’d like to tell you what life has been like lately. Now don’t get me wrong; what I’m about to say doesn’t imply I regret my decision to adopt that little monkey. She is both a treasure and a challenge.
Let’s start with the challenging part, shall we? This will give you an idea as to how I spend a good portion of my time at home with Taffy. Picture the two of us standing in the rain in the backyard. It’s 7 a.m. and Taffy is staring up at me, quizzically, while I repeatedly say, “Go potty, Taffy. Go potty.” That scenario is quickly followed by more expressions of total confusion.
It’s practically a miracle I posted at all this week. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like a parting of the Red Sea or anything, but still miraculous in its own way. You see, whenever I sit down to write my blog, someone insists on sitting across my lap and napping on my keyboard. That someone is my new mutt, Wally.
Don’t worry, I won’t bore you ad nauseam with continued Wally blogs…Wally did this, Wally did that, yada, yada Wally….I promise to bore you only when he does something exceptionally cute or particularly irritating. Wait. He does both those things. Guess I’ll be boring you more than I planned.