Saturday with my Pup

Stayed up too late Friday night. As is my wont. Party girl, that's me. (...Okay, I was finishing a book.)

Puppy isn't clear on the whole "weekend = sleep in" concept yet, so at 7 on Saturday morning, I dragged myself up long enough to open the door for the dogs to go out. Hoped they could wait for breakfast, tried to fall back to sleep.

At 8, doorbell rang. Sigh. Stumbled out of bed. (No, I don't think the dog has rung the doorbell. She's smart, but she still scratches to get in. Besides, it was the front doorbell.) No one there, but some noise at the back of the house, and lo and behold - my left-side next-door neighbor and my right-side next-door neighbor were standing on my driveway discussing my dogs. Seems LSNDN was pulling into her drive and saw my dogs in the front yard, and the little-used, thought-it-was-locked gate by her house was open.

So THAT'S how she got out while we were out at D's end-of-year concert the night before! We thought she'd propelled herself over the chicken wire which is jury-rigged across the iron fence from our back yard to our driveway. D and I found her waiting for us when we got home, just sitting in the front of the house. Which was a nice change from running off full-tilt, which is what she normally does if we leave a door even a fraction of an inch ajar around here.

I explain to LSNDN & RSNDN about the chicken wire, and cinder blocks, and duct tape, and all other measures which have transformed our previously sorta attractive fence into an anti-puppy containment zone. Which apparently has finally defeated her, since she just found a way to open the other gate instead.
So LSNDN easily convinced the old dog to follow her back to the yard, and puppy followed, and I sighed and gave up on sleep. After their breakfast (while I blocked the other gate with cinder block), the dogs followed me around as I tidied the house. Robert and K were off camping, so I cleaned K's fish tank. As I put away all the tank chemicals, I heard a suspicious cracking sound from my room.

Puppy, it says "chew tablet," not "chew bottle." Or, it did before you snuck into K's room, grabbed his recently-arrived 3-month supply of asthma meds, and took it off to my room to devour. There were 18 pills left in the bottle. For the record, she hasn't sneezed once since then.

Right. I monitor the pup, clean up the shards of plastic, give her a rawhide, shut K's door firmly. (My kids will never lack for privacy. Their doors have to stay shut at all times since puppy arrived.)

Later, I run D over to some event or another with friends. (Note: High schoolers who can't yet drive have to deal with all sorts of questions from their parent chauffeurs.) Gone 30 minutes, tops. Came home, and it seems pup has gone all digital on us. Fortunately, most of that spool was blank discs.

Did I mention that the vacuum is broken? The wand arm and the little attachments work, but the part that rolls over the carpets and picks up all the tiny bits of CDs at once? Doesn't work.
D took her for a nice long walk when his friend's event was over, and I am trying, really I am, to keep her surrounded with toys and chews and to use bitter apple on the woodwork and the toys and stuff. But good gracious, pup. I mean! Popping pills and ripping CDs and running away from home? What are you, a teenager?

She looks so sweet & innocent, doesn't she?