Personality challenged Dogs

My Saturday mornings are way different now. Sometimes, I miss the old house, the largeness of it. I really miss my old decadent bathroom. Oddly enough, my new bathroom is about the same in that I have the deep soak tub, a shower which is the same size as a standard shower/tub, has the two seats in it. And, of course, there is a toilet. What I am Missing is the double vanity, a lot of counter space, a towel cupboard and about 60 square feet. Oh, and a color TV with cable.

I miss that a lot. I am a newshound. I like to keep the TV tuned to Fox News. I used to watch CNN, but really couldn’t stand the format, the anchors or the liberal bias.

When, in preparation for the day, I could turn the news on, it made me feel better.

Now, you may think that my TV is on 24/7. It’s not. Maybe a total of an hour a day. That’s why it was so important to have that stupid TV in the bathroom. When you don’t have a lot of time, even 10 minutes of the news can help.

The one thing I did like was Saturday mornings. HGTV has Saturday mornings which show all the garden and landscaping shows.

My secret passion is landscaping. Hardscaping. Growing things. Planning things.

So, I would fill the soak tub with really hot water. Those of you who have read previous blogs already know that there is only one setting on my hot water tank. Cranked.

I was raised, from age 4 until age 8 in Japan. My mother was a big fan of the Japanese Soak Tub. We actually attended the public baths, where you enter into a locker sort of room, there are several benches and a bunch of ‘cubbies’ where you put your clothing. There is hot water and soap and a few buckets. You undress, wet yourself with water, scrub down, rinse off and then totter off to the tub room.

When you entered the one we attended, the beginning was like a lake bed, water was one inch deep and slowly the depth and the temperature both increased. The kids would stay in the tepid end where they could keep their little heads above the water and the adults would gravitate toward the deeper ends, for a nice soak and a gossip.

Well, anyway, I like good hot baths. I don’t stay in them all that long, one can only stand really hot water for so long without boiling yourself.

So, I would set the TV to HGTV. Disrobe. Climb into the tub with no water. Turn on the water to a semi comfortable temp, and let it fill with me already in it. Turning off the cold slowly until there wasn’t any by the time the tub was half full.

Lay back with a good cuppa Starbucks and watch the Garden shows. It was my finest hour.
The candles were lit. The lights were low. It was very romantic and it was just ME and HGTV.

Well, now.

I get up. Climb over the gate which keeps the MONSTER in the bedroom. The monster is DH’s stupid dog he bought in February last. He is what? Let me count. 9 months old. He weighs (sigh) about 150 pounds right now. DH and son thought that it was funny when he was about 40 pounds (a very long time ago) to teach him to chase one of the cats when they said “here kitty kitty”. I did not think it was funny then, I really don’t think it’s funny now when he does it whenever he hears the word Kitty.

He doesn’t hurt them in any way. He just chases them. And to have a 150 pound behemoth running through my house is very much a not funny situation.

Anyway, to keep him contained, I have a baby gate up across the room. We have to have the baby gate because, being unreasonable, I will not sleep in a room with a closed door and babies in the house. Nevermind that the babies just turned 5 and 8 respectively. They will be babies until the day they move out. I have to be able to hear every move they make all night long with my subconscious.

The five kittens, (now four, one was given away already), the Chihuahua and the Monster all sleep with us. As well as the occasional kidlet who has a bad dream. It can get a wee bit crowded in there. We should probably upsize the bed to a king from a queen.

So, first out of bed, (always me) has to take care of personal necessity, then climb the gate, go get a cup of coffee, put in on the dryer in the laundry hall, go into the bedroom from the master bath side, the master bath having two doors, one into the laundry room and one into the bedroom, grab the gate and really quickly go back through the bathroom and put the gate up on the other side before the dogs get around there from the other path.

The kittens food and litter box are resident in our bathroom. The dogs will feast from both. (gross). The kittens have the run of the house, but they are the only life forms who can fit through the gate (an accordion type). The older cats simply jump the gate, the dogs are stuck.

Now, I have to take the dogs out. There are horses next door. And, an electric fence. The monster doesn’t really try to bother the horses, but he now thinks he is a horse.

I am so not kidding. His very first glimpse of the horses impressed the hell out of him. He looked, turned his head, and paused, the actually did a double take. A dog doing a double take is a funny thing. So is a male dog peeing on an electric fence. (I think I need professional help).

So anyway, our back yard is about um…800 feet long. The horses are right next to us. IF they are in the pasture and not the barn, he runs right over to the fence to visit. Then, he pees, does his other business, and …

Starts acting like a horse. He grazes. He is so stupid.

So there I am, coffee cup in hand, in my pajamas, yelling at the monster trying to explain to him that he is not a horse, and is not supposed to graze. He is supposed to do his business, then come straight to me and be taken back inside. I know, I could put him on a leash, but my shoulder would be dislocated daily if I did.

Because, well, there are other horse behaviors that he mimics. His current favorite is to stand quietly grazing, then with no warning or reason, break into a full gallop.

I know, dogs don’t gallop. Tell him. Then he and the horses will have a race down the entire 800 feet of our back yard.

When I finally bring the horse/dog into the house, it is my Chihuahua’s turn. I cannot take them out together. He well, there is no delicate way to say this. He pees on her. She is just too short, and you know how dogs are. And females. She is female. So when she sees him doing something, she has to go and find out what it is.

Then, I usually have to hose her down.

She, is almost 10. and Sneaky. Very sneaky. She will run about the yard lifting her leg. I know, I have tried to tell her that female dogs don’t lift their legs. See above dog who thinks he is a horse. I don’t think I communicate all that well with dogs.

So, after she anoints every single leg of the trampoline (12) and the slide, and all the tires of all the bikes and motorcycles, and the four wheeler and the tractor, she then runs over past the propane tank and tries to sneak under the barbed wire.

She also doesn’t listen all that well when I call her. So there I am, coffee in hand still, yelling at her. SPIKE! Come back here right NOW. I mean NOW. Get over here. Don’t you run under that fence.

Sigh.

I really miss my old Saturday mornings.