Well, it had to happen. The love had to tarnish a little. Today I am officially a bit less in love with Louie the puppy. And, honestly, I think the feeling is mutual.
True story:
Since we are heading into our last few days before school starts, I suggested we take a little field trip today to a farm/state park in a neighboring town. It has trails, ponds, woods, a working dairy and ice cream stand. Good mommy, right? And since there was going to be so much to sniff, I thought we'd bring the puppy. I was impressing myself with my awesomeness right about then.
Oh, pride. Why do you go before the fall? Why not hang around a little longer? At least until we get home maybe?
We got there, traipsed all around, even let Louie off the leash for cute, playful running around the field with Sam. It was like a sunny 1970s movie, fuzzy around the edges and warming of the heart, with lots of humming and "la-la" music in the background.
Lauren hung onto the leash and Louie as the rest of us went and got drinks and ice cream at the dairy. Then we all headed to the car. Lauren says something about Louie squatting earlier and acting funny. Huh. That's weird, I think. As we continue to the car Louie, bless him, keeps sitting down. Over and over again. We start noticing that he's leaving behind marks every time he sits down. Skidmarks, if you will. Very smelly ones.
NO. nonononono. I lift up his tail. Yes. Absolutely yes. Somehow he hadn't quite finished his business enough to leave a present. The present has mushed into his fur and tail and legs. A very big present. Cartoon-like, I look from Louie to our car, Louie--->car. So here's a MacGyver situation: in the car, I have a pad of flipchart paper, a glass mug from our kitchen, my textbooks recently purchased for school, and two little plastic sandwich baggies. No towel, no bathtub, no fireman's hose.
I take Louie and the mug and the baggies over to the pond. Although he WILL NOT APPROACH THE POND. He vehemently opposes the pond idea. So I take little mug-fulls of water to his behind, over and over again, which frankly doesn't help much. Now it's just a wetter mess than before. With Lauren's help, I finally get him into the pond (and he manages to get me in, too) for a little dousing. It's a little better but still not up to the trip home.
We return to the car hoping that someone magically produced a crate and deodorizer while we were gone. Still just the paper and the books...which (hello?) are in big plastic bags! Yay, us! With one are-you-thinking-what-I'm-thinking glance, we craft a makeshift plastic diaper out of the bag, tearing two holes in the bottom for his legs and pulling it up around his tummy. It works. We spread the flipchart paper on the seats just in case. It doesn't take care of the stink but it protects the car, thereby protecting Louie from eternal shunning by the man of the house.
Poor boy, he's subdued and embarrassed all the way home. We have definitely insulted his doghood. His expression says what the heck, people?! Is there no pleasing you humans? First the elizabethan collar and now this?
Oh, but don't cry for Louie too long. When we got home, he got cleaned off with the hose, escaped through our open gate and got back into the car all muddy. Touche, Louie.
p.s. Have a great Labor Day weekend! G and I are heading to Boston's North End tonight for a little pasta and cannoli, then tomorrow we're taking the kids to Fenway for a little Red Sox baseball (hopefully not in the rain and lightning, please.) Goodbye, summer!
