Our little mutt dog is 13 years old. He’s the one that had the VERY expensive surgery last year. He’s been fine, since.
Over the past year, however, he’s developed bad habits that he never had before, even as a puppy. He gets into the trash (especially bathroom trash – he loves that), he gets into things in the garage, he chews on things. It’s really weird.
Just today, he got a hold of our daughter’s best pair of jeans and chewed a hole right out of them. He was actually chewing on the piece of denim and it had to be pried out of his mouth.
Over the past couple of days (I warn you, it gets gross here), the dog’s had diarrhea, and you know dogs – they aim for carpet – usually light colored carpet. Not the wood floors, not bathroom tile, and not small, cheap throw rugs that can be washed or thrown away – this dog aims for the wall-to-wall carpet in our bedrooms. Light grey carpet. He left several piles all over our room and our other daughter’s room (no, he doesn’t discriminate).
We awakened to it yesterday and today and we were scrubbing for quite some time. As I was scrubbing, I said (in anger, but partly true) that I’m ready to have him put down. Hubby chastised me for saying it in front of the kids, so I told him HE could do all the scrubbing. He shut up after that.
So today, said dog is on rice only. Plus, the daughter with the hole in her best jeans won’t have anything to do with him, which is sad, because he loves her best. She’s momentarily forgotten that he’s just a stupid, senile dog. No offense to dog lovers, because I am one. I’ve owned smart dogs and dumb dogs. This one falls into the latter category. He’s sweet, but not smart.
To add to the weirdness, today Hubby went into the basement and found another “pile” on the concrete floor. As he was walking over to clean it up, it moved.
At this point in the story, I was about ready to move away and never look back. I mean, that last sentence is the stuff horror stories are made of.
But – turns out it was a toad. A BIG toad. We have no idea how it got down there. We’ve had mice (small ones) and once a shrew. One time I found a tiny, tiny toad, but I figured it hitched a ride and came in the house on one of the dog’s legs. This toad was big and should not have been able to get into our basement.
That totally freaks me out.
What else is in the basement?
And why didn’t the dog (or cats, for that matter) do something about the toad?
These are the big questions I’m pondering today.
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