What a night! What a night! + 5 minutes with Guinness

Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Guinness toweling off after his shower.
Between his paws, as he lies in the astilbe, is a bleeding heart stem from the demolished plants on the right.

It was totally our fault. You would think that two people with masters degrees, various certificates, plus experienced dog owners, would know enough to not allow a puppy to digest an entire cornstarch bone. We had treated him with one yesterday afternoon and he thoroughly enjoyed it. By bedtime, it had evaporated. While watching Law and Order from bed, I asked, “Do you smell something?” When I shone the flashlight on Guinness, he was eating diarrhea. Daddy held him while I cleaned up the little bit left which included shards of the bone. Only a few minutes after settling back into bed, Grant heard him eating something again. He was devouring his excretion again. This time Daddy took him outside, where he pooped some more. Once the crate was clean, I suggested that Grant to go to bed, and I took the boy for a prolonged prom. He did not go potty on our walk, but he did drink plenty of water. I gave him some Pepto Bismol, and we went to bed. About 1, I heard him moving around, flashed the light on him to discover the crate painted with BM. Grant did not arouse. I carried the boy outside, dunked him in his pool for a third time, then tethered him to a tree. While disinfecting the crate, Grant awakened shocked that he had not heard us. He went out to be with the boy who, by that time, had torn off three of the pipes from the harp wind chime. On the way back into the house, Guinness had another drink of water. Being wide awake, I decided to continue the organization project of my scrapbook space downstairs. I detected Grant desperately hollering an hour later. We met on his way to the back door with Guinness flailing in his arms spraying me with liquid. He had flooded his crate! Fortunately, his nighttime crate is totally enclosed instead of the open wire crate where he spends his days. This was the fourth time to disinfect the crate and send Guinness swimming tonight!

This morning we had a proper bath. Since he is too big to fit into the laundry tub, we had our first shower using the garden hose. He was not thrilled but tolerated it well. Following the shower (I know you want to know this!), he left a normal pile in the grass. To give him time to thoroughly dry in the sun, I repaired the wind chime. Guinness spent his time playing, destroying more of my bleeding hearts plants, and pulling the floppy hummingbird out of a flower pot for the umpteenth time.


5 Minutes with Incorrigible Guinness

At 6 PM, it was time for a potty break before we left for dinner. On the way out the door, he grabbed a towel left on the floor at the door which we had used earlier in the day. His little sharp teeth make it difficult to remove terrycloth from his mouth. I set it on the back of the sofa which I thought was out of his reach. He jumped and grabbed it. I carefully unhooked it from his teeth again and set it back on the sofa. He jumped and grabbed it. We had not even made it out the door yet! This time, I removed it and threw it out of his reach. He ran down the deck steps, to the lawn, and found a potty spot. Then he headed for the daylilies. The spent blooms are forming seed pods which he finds interesting, but, in the process of pulling off the seed pods, he tramples the foliage sometimes sitting on it and totally flattening it. When I tried to remove him from the lilies, he backed away and focused on the French Lilac behind them. He tugged on a lower branch, as he loves pruning my bushes. I physically removed him from the garden, trying to interest him in a ball. He ignored the ball and ran directly to the bright hummingbird in a flower pot. I explained for a second time today, “That is Mommy’s toy; not Guinness’s toy. Auntie Esther gave it to Mommy, and you cannot have it.” By this time, he had circled the large pot and had his trailing leash wound around the pot. Once my attention was diverted from keeping him from the hummingbird, his attention went back to the pretty, flopping hummingbird. I encouraged him to follow me to the front yard. There he found the carpet rose. He wanted to pull a branch from the bush, and, of course, he chose one with a tip full of buds. I advised, “You don’t want to play with that bush! It has thorns. It will prick your little mouth.” He didn’t seem to care, so I had to pull him away from it. Our five minutes were now up. Thank heavens! Grant met us at the door. I commented, “He didn’t pick up the towel again!” He informed me, “Yes, he did.”