Our dog, Rudi, has done everything in her power these past few days to irritate me. She pooped in the house yesterday (diarrhea, mind you), broke the horizontal blinds in two windows trying to 'get out' during the pooping incident, tried to eat baby bunnies from a nest in the backyard and subsequently got salmonella AND pin worm from what the vet called "rodent droppings." I can only deduce that the small, defenseless baby bunnies had a hand in this. The trip to the vet? A mere $100.29 and lots of pills I have to shove down her throat three times a day, every day for the next week. She really enjoys THAT.
Additionally, she woke Adam and I up last night every two hours, like clockwork, so she could go outside to the bathroom. That's funny, I thought I had a full-grown dog, not a newborn child.
On the flip side, the week where she is high atop my hate list and I have to put on rubber gloves and hold my breath to scoop her poop off the carpet, I am reminded of all the other weeks where she's not. Where she's really quite perfect. Adam reminded me today that all these things she's done are basic instincts and the other 358 days of the year, she deserves a "#1 Dog" t-shirt. He's right.
Considering her background, Rudi has every right not to be such a wonderful dog. We aren't sure exactly where her life began, we don't know her birthday, and we don't know what breed she is. I'd put my money on black lab/ shepherd, if it matters. All we know is that one of Adam's roommates, Vonde, has an uncle who's a priest in an area of Dayton called Salem. It isn't exactly the nicest area of town, one you wouldn't want to venture the streets alone at night. It was here, in that priest's garage, that someone dumped Rudi. The priest called Vonde to see if he and his roommates would like the puppy--and we all went to see her. Everyone knows you don't just "go see a puppy" you look, fall in love and then bring it home. That was in January of 2005. She wasn't more than 4 or 5 weeks old at the time.
That was exactly how it happened. The other roommates said it couldn't be "their" dog, so it became Adam's. It lived in a college apartment for 4 months and then packed up her bags as graduation from college drew near. Adam found a job in Sidney, moved, and Rudi was left at his parent's house. It was there that she grew up for two years, raising havoc, eating rose bushes, pulling laundry down from the clothesline and digging up dead animals. She got in a few fights along the way, busting open her nose and splitting her ear, the earlier of which was repaired.
After Adam and I got married, she got a heavy-duty bath and came to live with us. She was well-mannered, obedient and potty-trained (still is, save the recent incident) and it was obvious from the start that she loved us. Her primary goal in life is to be in the same place as us at every moment. If we're leaving, she wants to come, too. Oh, and if you don't mind rolling down the window so she can stick her head out, that would be great, thanks. If we're staying, she wants to sit by us and get a scratch behind the ear. It's the simple things, really. Nothing excites her more than a running shoe being slipped on a foot, because it usually means a run outside is soon to follow.
She jumps on those who enter our house, barks at strangers and doesn't like strange men. I don't either. Everything I own is covered in mounds of black dog hair, no matter how many times I vacuum the carpet or grab the lint roller. Sometimes, I make food and while I'm eating it, I find myself with a hair in my mouth. OK, so maybe she's not perfect. But, I'll keep her. For now at least. Talk to me next week.
Additionally, she woke Adam and I up last night every two hours, like clockwork, so she could go outside to the bathroom. That's funny, I thought I had a full-grown dog, not a newborn child.
On the flip side, the week where she is high atop my hate list and I have to put on rubber gloves and hold my breath to scoop her poop off the carpet, I am reminded of all the other weeks where she's not. Where she's really quite perfect. Adam reminded me today that all these things she's done are basic instincts and the other 358 days of the year, she deserves a "#1 Dog" t-shirt. He's right.
Considering her background, Rudi has every right not to be such a wonderful dog. We aren't sure exactly where her life began, we don't know her birthday, and we don't know what breed she is. I'd put my money on black lab/ shepherd, if it matters. All we know is that one of Adam's roommates, Vonde, has an uncle who's a priest in an area of Dayton called Salem. It isn't exactly the nicest area of town, one you wouldn't want to venture the streets alone at night. It was here, in that priest's garage, that someone dumped Rudi. The priest called Vonde to see if he and his roommates would like the puppy--and we all went to see her. Everyone knows you don't just "go see a puppy" you look, fall in love and then bring it home. That was in January of 2005. She wasn't more than 4 or 5 weeks old at the time.
That was exactly how it happened. The other roommates said it couldn't be "their" dog, so it became Adam's. It lived in a college apartment for 4 months and then packed up her bags as graduation from college drew near. Adam found a job in Sidney, moved, and Rudi was left at his parent's house. It was there that she grew up for two years, raising havoc, eating rose bushes, pulling laundry down from the clothesline and digging up dead animals. She got in a few fights along the way, busting open her nose and splitting her ear, the earlier of which was repaired.
After Adam and I got married, she got a heavy-duty bath and came to live with us. She was well-mannered, obedient and potty-trained (still is, save the recent incident) and it was obvious from the start that she loved us. Her primary goal in life is to be in the same place as us at every moment. If we're leaving, she wants to come, too. Oh, and if you don't mind rolling down the window so she can stick her head out, that would be great, thanks. If we're staying, she wants to sit by us and get a scratch behind the ear. It's the simple things, really. Nothing excites her more than a running shoe being slipped on a foot, because it usually means a run outside is soon to follow.
She jumps on those who enter our house, barks at strangers and doesn't like strange men. I don't either. Everything I own is covered in mounds of black dog hair, no matter how many times I vacuum the carpet or grab the lint roller. Sometimes, I make food and while I'm eating it, I find myself with a hair in my mouth. OK, so maybe she's not perfect. But, I'll keep her. For now at least. Talk to me next week.
1 comment:
Awww, Rudi is adorable! And you are such a good dog owner Emily! :) I think you deserve a #1 Dog Owner T-shirt...covered in dog hair
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