note- not a cat

Last night I let Bristow outside to go potty before bed. It's like 11pm and it's pouring rain. I see him lunge for the fence- there's a slight dip at the bottom so I thought he was trying to get under. I pounded on the door and he stopped. Then he proceeded to stand under the tree (to stay dry) for like five minutes. I went out, b/c I thought, oh no! Maybe he's puking! That's where he stands to do it, you see.



I say, "let's go inside!" AND HE PICKS UP A MOUSE. THAT HE CAUGHT. May I remind you all, kind readers, that he is a DOG? Not a cat. Not even a small-animal catching dog, like say, oh, a rat terrier. No. He is a large large shepherd mix. He can barely retrieve. But he can catch a mouse and make a break for the back door which I left open.

He did a victory lap around the living room, meanwhile I'm screaming my head off "NO NON NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOO!", which the neighbors found highly amusing, I'm sure. He goes into his crate and drops the mouse. It's dead, and little, but here's the dilemma: NOW WHAT? Do I get some paper towels and pick up the mouse and throw it in the trash- in which there is no trash bag b/c I am the epitome of laziness??? Or do I throw it back outside, where I know he'll just pick it up tomorrow? Bristow is, by the way, just staring at me like I am a raving lunatic, which I am, as I'm screaming at him trying to figure this out. I'm also yelling, "Let's go outside! OUTside!" with emphatic hand gestures to make the point.

I somehow convinced him (yes, I'm sure "convinced my dog" is the right verbiage here) to take the mouse outside, at which point, I grab the water spray bottle and some peanut butter and chase him outside, taking care to shut the door behind me this time. I run up to him and start spraying him with the bottle to get him to drop the mouse- please keep in mind that it is not only raining out but I have also inadvertently left the bottle on "mist" from earlier when I was getting wrinkles out of my sweater. So, let's recap. It's 11pm, pouring, and I'm misting my dog. Ooh, he's scared.

So I switch to the peanut butter and LO! it lures him away from the mouse long enough for us to make it inside and for me to triumphantly slam and lock the door! Hoorah! No mouse in my house!!!

And that's how I spent last night.

i say goodbye, you say hello

Say goodbye to this little guy! I found him running in traffic last week, but found him a new and loving forever home this weekend.



Bristow was both a huge fan and not a fan of the little guy (whom I referred to as "Lil Dude" or "New Puppy" so as to not get too attached)- he went straight for Bristow's favorites toys and bed when he came inside. On the other hand, they played tug of war for hours!



I'm also marking "get a dog" off my 101 Things list. I seriously considered keeping the little guy, since he just wants to love and cuddle with you- things Bristow is rarely a fan of. But Bristow kept tripping over him every step of the way, and it's not fair to him to have to constantly jump around to avoid stepping on another dog. There was also the issue of not being housebroken, although I'm told that he has no problems with that in his new house. But in the end, I realized that I am not fully ready for another crazy pants dog, especially not a young puppy. And if I do get one, he/she needs to be closer to Bristow's size for more equitable roughhousing!