I took his collection of Tiny Humpables away and gave them to someone else.
It all started when I had a big fight with Ruth, and kicked her out of the house.
Just kidding. She was trying to get a piece of grass off the roof of her mouth there.
However, she was causing me no end of grief the last few days, so I made an executive decision and ushered her along to her next foster home a little earlier than planned.
On Thursday night I apparently didn’t latch the pen door shut very well, because on Friday morning I awoke to Ruth sitting on the end of my bed, having left me several presents of the urinary and defecatory variety on the areas rugs. My house being what it is, and it is being a tiny farmhouse with no doors between its two rooms, I must sleep with ear plugs to block out the sounds of wrestling puppies. I figured Ruth had really needed to go and I didn’t hear her over the plugs, so she escaped her pen and did her business on my floor. Oh well. I spent the morning cleaning dog shit off the rug and thought no more of it.
Saturday while at work, I got a phone call from Joe, who wondered why I’d moved the XPen all the way into the middle of the living room, and told Ruth to destroy my ENTIRE HOUSE while I was away. She’s gotten out of the pen again, ripped up all my trash, pissed and shit everywhere, demolished my bathroom and basically became Ruth Tornado in my living space. Argh!!
I whipped home from work with exactly 10 minutes to spare before I had to leave again to shoot the Paws2Dance Gala rehearsal. I used these precious 10 minutes to move the kitchen table against the pen door and barricade the rest with chairs. When I returned 2 hours later, Ruth greeted me at the door, standing in a pile of garbage that Joe had cleaned up and bagged at lunchtime. Double ARGH!
I didn’t even get to go to the Gala performance that evening, because I had to stay home with Ruth. Exciting Saturday nights – I haz them. Without putting a lid on the pen and staking it to the floor, I apparently was not allowed to leave my home.
Or sleep. Because when I got up this morning, Ruth was dancing on a lake of pee and poop in my entry way.
I can’t say I was too sad to say ADIOS to the back end of Ruthie by this point. But I am going to miss my little furry potatoes something fierce :(
I wish I had a better set up for pups, because I do so love fostering litters. I love watching them morph from lumps to tiny dogs – the moment they start recognizing my voice, and wagging their tails when I speak, or discovering my toes … it’s all so fascinating! And snuzzling puppylimpkins isn’t too shabby either. But Hilary does a simply marvelous job with the pups, and they will be well loved there for sure. And Hilary is much less likely to stab Ruth in the eye with a pencil than I am.
If I had half a brain and an ounce of sense, I’d give us all a well earned break and not foster anything for a while. I’m still trying to find time in my every day to start teaching Dexter his 2X2s, and that’s going to be even harder to do with the time change! But I really need to put this intensity to good use:
But because I’m me, I have 3 whole days of downtime before another Saskatchewan refuge arrives to claim asylum in my house.