Today I have had it with this dog. He's ruined my glove, he got into T's Halloween candy, barked at neighbors and the UPS man. He's gotten in the trash, chewed up a straw, dug a hole and tracked mud into the house. He got into the kitty litter and dragged kitty poop out and ate it. He chewed on G's kindle cover with the kindle in it. He jumped up on the table to get leaves, twice! Why there's leaves on our our table is another post. He decided a batting glove that was inside a box would be a good chew toy. Then he ate my lunch, my freaking lunch, that I had pushed back, way back, on the counter while I went to grab my water cup.
That was just today....other days he ruins other things and irritates me on other levels.
It sucks and I hate myself for being talked into getting a dog again.
Yes, he's cute and fun but he's more work than any of that is worth, for me anyways. I'm the one home all day with him. I can't get anything done without said things above happening. He's good when he wants to be. He has toys to play with and chew on, food and water in his bowl but none of that matters. He's only good when you are constantly hovering over him. I didn't sign up to be a helicopter dog owner....oh wait... Maybe this is all my fault, wait, this is my fault. I let it happen. Why? Why did I let this happen and why did my family think I would enjoy having a dog and pressure me into it? Why couldn't they just take my answer of no to heart and let it be.
As I am writing this, I have only had to get up eight hundred thousand times to make sure he's not on the table or in the kitty litter or chewing up a headset or maybe eating my lunch...oh wait, he already did that.
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