Taz again

I don’t remember that house breaking a puppy was so hard. Maybe I’m just getting old and cranky but shouldn’t he be learning the difference between carpet and grass by now?

After all, in dog years or more importantly, in dog poops and pees he’s accumulated quite a score of hits and misses.

Taz has been sleeping beside me, or on top of me, at night and does just fine except once when he slid off of me, off the bed and into the wastebasket. He always wakes me up early, which is OK since I’m an early riser anyway, and after I get dressed, start the coffee pot going and throw on a coat or some rain gear, we go for a walk in the back yard.

He’s not real sure if he likes the wet grass at first, but once he gets going he’s a joy to watch. He usually finds a piece of moss or a stick to grab and shake until he’s satisfied it’s dead and no longer a threat, and then he might attack a snail or a beetle speeding by, and if I’m lucky he may remember why we’re out there freezing my butt off, and do his business.

We have a towel inside the back door to dry the dogs off when we come in. As soon as I try to dry him he grabs the towel and the tug of war begins, along with some fierce head shaking and growling. Then he starts living up to his namesake, the Tasmanian Devil. He plays with his toys, tennis balls, chew toy, my slippers, unties my shoelaces and generally terrorizes our other dog, Chewy, who just wants to be left alone.

This usually lasts for about an hour until he finally wears out, and takes a nap. Thank God! This is my chance to clean up his “mistakes,” go to the bathroom, take Chewy out, brush my teeth, fix breakfast, get on the Internet and…Shit! He’s awake, and we start all over again.