The nefarious pup


My dog is trying to drive me insane.  He’s a smallish not quite toy white cream poodle, with endearing black eyes and a black spot of a nose  – the only things visible when he is romping (as he is wont to do) in powder snow.

He seemed good-natured when I went to pick him up.  Didn’t bark, seemed calm, appeared unnaturally mature.

Turns out he didn’t bark because he had a bad ear infection that made him unable to hear on one side.  I cleared that up.  He found his voice sounds quite lovely in stereo.  The trainer told me to put coins in a can and shake it at him and say “no bark” when he barks. He laughs at me.  He bounces straight up and then races joyfully around the apartment, barking madly.  He’s delighted that I, too, have a loud noise I can make.

He is so good about not eating cords I felt, for a while, safe.  Then he learned he could jump up on the sofa, the bed. Whenever there is a sinister silence, I know to go looking. The other day he silently tangled an entire ball of yarn all over my living room, through chair legs, over tables, in knots. Then he silently resorted my dirty laundry, flinging underwear and socks all over my bedroom, emptying my laundry basket almost entirely.

Today, he’s hidden my glasses. I’ve searched everywhere and he has yet to show them again to me.  I have my old prescription, but it isn’t right, so I feel like I am limping half eyed. He watches me, no doubt amused at the way I walk into walls and trip over things. Meanwhile he chews.  Every time I hear a gentle chewing, I race around the apartment, checking to see what he’s got in his jaws. He jumps up and races about, barking with joy. Another game!

It’s slowly driving me round the twist.  If he weren’t so cute and fluffy and funny, I’d be tempted to give him to the people who have lost their little white dog – advertised in the grocery store. Maybe he could pretend to be theirs….

But who would tell me when the kettle is boiling? Or force me out on walks in the frigid weather? Or curl up with me and keep my toes warm?

Better keep him for now. Or at least until he finds my #%^#$% glasses!

Who, me?