McStudly has only been gone for 1 day. 1 measly day, in the sea of tons of them (1 down, 89 to go), but somehow, I am already overwhelmed.
Mainly - it's Austin. I love my dog. I really really do! And he's a good dog... for the most part. But McStudly had this way with him (I personally think he slipped him treats, etc, behind my back to earn the affection) that had him eating out of the palm of his hands (figuratively AND literally, that is). McStudly would say it, and Austin would probably do it. There were days when he was even hard-headed with him, but it wasn't nearly as often.
So here we are. It's just me and Austin. And he's been doing pretty well. I've taken him for walks for the past two days straight, and it's helped his energy level a good bit. But this morning, it got pretty ridiculous. Let me essplain...
Today, I got to sleep in and wait for the cable guy to arrive (you know how they give you like a 4 hour window?). This morning, I got up around 8, let Austin out and fed him, then he went back into his crate (trying to keep with his usual schedule) and I went to the couch for a little morning nappage until the cable guy arrived at around 0950.
He came in, introduced himself, and come to find out, he actually lives about 2 or 3 doors down. Small world, eh? Well, I show him where we need the cable box set up, and where the spare bedroom is, for the 2nd box (that we get for free, I might add, thanks to Verizon promotions), and on the way up, I warn him about my "ferocious" dog being in his crate, in order to prepare him for the obnoxious whining he would undoubtedly be privileged enough to hear for the next 3 hours straight.
Upon seeing Austin, he sticks his hand in the crate to pet him (and Austin pretty much molests his hand) and tells me, I'm okay to let him out of his crate because he loves dogs and wouldn't mind him. I warn him that he's quite the puppy, still, and let him out. He is great - no jumping, just listens perfectly, and goes right outside to potty. And for the next hour, he's fantastic! He makes instant friends with the cable/neighbor guy, who says he also has a lab mix (Austin's favorite kind of friend - just ask Luke), and pretty much stays with him while he works... just watching... like an angel dog.
As the guy takes trips outside to his van to retrieve supplies, Austin sits at the front door, awaiting his new-found-friend's return. I decide that it's time to give the cable/neighbor man a break, and shut the door to the basement (where he's working), keeping Austin upstairs with me. And he just continues to be the sweetest dog! He actually layed on the floor in the kitchen while I did dishes (he looked like he was depressed that his mom wouldn't let him play with his new buddy, but I figured he'd get over it). So, I get dishes done, and decide I might as well head up to take my shower while the cable/neighbor man was working in the basement (yes, ladies, I locked all possible doors between us), and I let Austin back down to visit with his new friend, again. All seems well in the world as I slip in to take a nice long (though I've taken much longer) and relaxing shower.
I finish my shower and get dressed. Brush through my hair, and decide to go check in how things are progressing. The cable/neighbor guy is in the spare bedroom hooking up the internet, and I head down to look for Austin. Well, the genius cable/neighbor guy left him outside (totally fine, and probably the best idea). But the NOT so genius side of my cable/neighbor guy left the friggin outside door open, too! (one question, dude - are you a COMPLETE moron, or do you just have episodes, occasionally?)
So picture this, as best you can. I slowly open the door to the basement to find the stairs almost COMPLETELY covered in mud and wood chips. Austin is about 5 stairs down, looking up at me like a man caught gorging his face in the back room of a restaurant. I can practically hear him saying "oh crap" in typical Austin voice fashion. As if reacting to what's about to happen, he attempts to run out of the door I'm standing by into the house, but he's blocked. So, he takes of running outside. Good choice, moron. Good choice.
I walk outside, stomping like a 6-year old who's been told "because I said so", and just GLARE at my dog and all of his glory. Not much to my amusement, there are two gigantoid holes in the pretty small garden plot on the right side of the yard. Austin is cowering in the opposite corner, so I choose, if only for the time being, to let him cower in fear as I begin clean-up.
I start by grabbing the rake, and shoving most of the dirt back into the holes, then use the pooper-scooper to pick up the wood chips and place them over the poop-like-mud, patting down in hopes that it will settle and never be touched again. Then I turn my sights on the inside. I started out using the pooper-scooper to pick up the big pieces, but resolved to use the broom instead (which ended up being way more efficient anyways). Starting at the top of the stairs, I use the broom and begrudgingly sweep all of the gunk (minus the now caked-in mud, mind you) to the floor, and then sweep all of it out the back door.
By this time the cable/neighbor guy has returned to the outside and kind've laughs out an "uh oh". Umm...Yeah, buddy. Ya think?!
Fast forward about 15 minutes. It's time to put Austin in the crate. He's done enough damage for one hour... and I've had enough! So I go get his treat (seems to be the only way I can coax him into it on my own) and I start the taunting. But he goes and lays on his bed like "Look, ma. I'm being good!" I give him a little piece of it, then tell him to go get in his crate, but he returns to me a blank, sarcastic stare. This and other similar taunting methods drag on for about 10 minutes, until I FINALLY have him running upstairs (thanks, in part, to cable/neighbor guy being up there) and he JETS into the bedroom. I go to chase him out, and he cuts out through the bathroom and JETS back downstairs. You've GOT to be kidding me!
Well, I get him back upstairs, again, and he tries the same thing (stupid me - left the doors open!), but this time he's caught off guard as cable/neighbor guy tries to help me out, a bit, by blocking his escape route down the stairs. So I GRAB him by the scruff of his neck (just like a pissed off momma dog would... minus the teeth, that is) and SHOVE his butt into the crate... throwing his treat at him (he's lucky I have awful aim). Completely and totally ticked off, I command "Now, STAY!" (wow, mom... that was really powerful. He's locked in a crate and you sure showed him by telling him to stay! I bet he's not going anywhere... realll nice).
I didn't even look at cable/neighbor guy, because I felt like a complete idiot, with my soap-opera-ish "AND STAY OUT!" remark punctuating the hour of horror.
So... Anybody want a dog for a week? Don't feel bad. I didn't figure you would.
*sigh
I need a vacation.
