Daisy T.C.T.B.M.B.F.H. stars in - Master’s Shadow
November 30, 2007 — wheresroxyWe recently attended a wedding out in the middle of the desert. And yes, I mean out in the middle - it was six miles off the paved road, okay? The dog was invited.
Yes, that would be Daisy, The Christmas Tree Ball Munching Boxer From Hell.
Supposedly, the Dog is “mine” - as in, she came with me. As in, I’m the one who did all the house breaking, leash training, puppy Kindergarten, etc.
Then, she met HIM, the BF and as far as she was concerned, I could go fly a kite, so long as I left HER with HIM.
Is this a gaze of doggy devotion or what? (I do have to say - I understand that look… I think I have it too sometimes!)
Note - the “training collar” is because she was going to be around other dogs, in an unfamiliar environment, where pulling, tugging and other “disruptive” doggy behavior are not good things. Also because we were out in the middle of the desert and this little suburban doggy has never been up close and personal with the variety of flora and fauna out there…
The Christmas Tree Ball Munching Boxer From Hell
November 24, 2007 — wheresroxyI have, on occasion, talked about Daisy, the Christmas Tree Ball Munching Boxer From Hell - and I thought it finally time to introduce that maniacal bundle of cyclonic canine cuteness to the folks around here.
Daisy is as typical a Boxer as you could possibly hope for, cute in a squashed-face, sad-eyed sort of way, incredibly full of energy, and absolutely in love with her people. She is, by and large, a very good doggy. But last Christmas, she was apparently convinced those shiny things on the Christmas tree were Doggy Toys put there for her enjoyment, and the damn dog managed to ruin not one or two of the nice glass balls, but more like one or two dozen of them. Her holiday hi-jinks prompted this post:
There is shredded wrapping paper all over my house, boxes strewn everywhere and gifts tossed willy-nilly all around. There’s a suspicious stain on my living room carpet, the tree looks slightly askew and the dining room table is a mess. The lights and stockings that once hung so nice and straight are crooked and drooping, the pine garland that was wrapped around my banister is hanging drunken-like over the couch and the candles that were on the table are nowhere to be seen.
No, it’s not the aftermath of a Christmas party, and it isn’t the day after Christmas. It was just last night. I had some errands to run, plus had to get my nails done for Christmas (what’s the holiday without sparkly red nail polish right?) and when we came home, Daisy The Christmas Tree Ball Munching Boxer From Hell - she who had denuded the lower third of my tree - had turned into some cyclonic whirl wind of hyperkinetic doggy energy and had somehow:
~Pulled presents off the dining room table - knocking everything there all over. (most gifts were in the closet - these had just come in from my Sister.)
~Chewed said wrapping and boxes apart - spreading the havoc all over the lower floors.
~Tossed the contents into the far reaches of the living room, dining room, office and kitchen.
~Somehow in her running around - knocked into the tree, pulling more lights and the tree askew.
~Somehow pawed the stockings that hang on a mantle that is 5 feet above the floor - hello, how in the world????
~Decided the pine garland on the banister needed to be played with and pulled it half off and onto the couch.
~Apparently got overly excited - or overly tangled? - and had an accident on the living room floor (that hasn’t happened in a long time…)
~And I don’t think I want to know where my candles are, OK?
It’s not like she doesn’t get exercised daily. It’s not like she doesn’t get played with and it’s not like she doesn’t have doggy toys!
However, she is a 1 1/2 year old Boxer and I know that means bundle of nearly uncontrollable energy combined with doggy who wants to be named Class Clown.
When we got home - she was standing at the top of the steps, wiggling, waggling and “kidney beaning” to beat the band - and looking rather sheepish while she was at it.
So, she’s been banished to the dreaded Minimum Security Laundry Room Doggy Penitentiary - Doggyville - until we can get the mess cleaned up and figure out how to better Daisy-proof the house. (She does have the run of the laundry room - which ain’t too tiny - and at least she’s not in the Maximum Security Unit of Doggyville - The Crate.)
The bizarre part is this is not her normal behavior. I really think it’s just that last Christmas, her first, all the Christmas stuff was kept in another room - where she was not allowed (different house - I was able to close off the dining room) and my ex would keep her in the crate all day while we were away at work, and all night while we slept.
This year, I can’t close off the stuff, and she’s been having the run of the downstairs area for six months now - she had never taken to the crate, and my ex always had to force her into it, so as soon as she came here - I was leaving the crate open to see what she would do. It wasn’t too long before the crate was abandoned. She has a doggy bed and a favorite spot under a table.
Ah, the joys of being owned by a dog.
It remains to be seen what this year will bring. I’ve already put up some decorations, but the tree will wait until mid-December. I’m seriously considering simply not decorating the lower three or four feet!
And this loverly shot - let’s not discuss how long it took me to unwind her from the maze of guy-lines she had weaved herself through.
It has to be said, though - she’s really a damn good dog, and most of the time, knows her doggy manners very well.
