The Little Dude turned 16 weeks old last weekend when I was stranded by freezing rain in Arlington Oregon. Just one look at the glowing eyes tells you this dog is possessed. I have been trying to think of some really gross stories that would dissuade someone from getting a puppy thereby saving an unsuspecting spouse from becoming the hesitant den parent of a manly bull mastiff or lovely toy poodle.
I was working at my desk the other day and Little Dude was curled up on the dog bed next to my desk. I heard the gurgling sound that usually means one of the dogs is going to cough up a loogie but was busy doing some urgent computer thing. When I finally looked over at Little Dude, sure enough, there was a little pile of dog vomit next to the pillow. Actually it was just a little pile of dog food swollen up with water. The pup ate too much, too fast and there was the excess in a cute little pile. I considered taking a picture of the dog vomit thinking this was a teaching moment but the urgent computer stuff caught my attention. I hoped the Little Dude would eat it again and save me the chore of picking it up. Then the girl den human returned to the cave and discovered the dog vomit next to the puppy with the boy den human plugged into the computer. ZOMG!
The Little Dude is getting to the age where he will be loosing his baby teeth. So he has been on the prowl lately for things to put in his mouth. No human den master should be without a tube of bitter apple paste. Little Dude has taken a liking to my cycling shorts which he somehow manages to steal from places he shouldn't be. I've found him several times chewing on my cycling shorts chamois, just as happy as he can be. The pup has yet to destroy anything but he does manage to slobber things up pretty good. The little devil has found the one thing I am not going to put bitter apple paste on. I'm thinking it may be time to throw the shorts in the laundry. Maybe this spring when I wash my wool jersey.
I took Little Dude for his first walk downtown last week before the snow. Little Dude stopped at every noise, not sure if he should sniff, lick, run or hide. We went to the Laundermutt where a very nice lady gave Little Dude a shampoo and trimmed his big paddle paws. The Laudermutt lady even trimmed the fur out of his eyes. When I returned to the laundermutt several hours later to get the Little Dude, he was laying in the store window watching the main street action in downtown White Salmon. I forgot to ask how many people dropped in to ask, “How much is that dogie in the window?” I still laugh every time I look at him. There's something in those devil eyes and he smells just like a jar of red clover honey.