Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Workin' my last nerve

Boy oh boy, Jordan was workin' my last nerve yesterday!

When I got up to shower, she was sleeping on her bed on the floor in our bedroom, as usual. When I finished showering and opened the curtain to grab a towel she was pacing around the bathroom, panting, and doing that little half-bark to get my attention. I perceived she needed to pee so I told her ‘okay, just a minute’ while I quickly dried off.

I opened the bedroom door to get my bathrobe from the guestroom closet so I could quickly take her out. I figured the robe would be quicker than getting dressed. As soon as I opened the door she bolted down the stairs. I told her again to ‘wait a minute, I’ll be right there’ while I quickly put on my robe and came down the stairs. I found her squatting and peeing on the doormat at the front door! I swatted her on the head and hollered ‘NO!’ while unlocking the door and letting her out to finish peeing in the yard.

How could she be asleep one minute, and then be absolutely incapable of holding her pee the next minute? I know the steroid injection she got last week makes her thirsty and she drinks more water, but I also think she just got impatient.

After she finished peeing in the yard she came back inside and I took the mat and hung it over the porch railing. Fortunately the mat is rubber-backed, so none of the pee got on the wood floor. Then she was pacing around again, like she wanted to poop, so I put her on the leash and took her outside. In my bathrobe. Apparently she didn't need to poop, she wanted to go for a walk. But I was in a thin, summertime bathrobe and nothing else, so I told her to 'go poop in the yard'. She wouldn’t do it. She just stood on the driveway while I got madder and madder at her. I walked her over into the grass and told her very sternly several times to poop. She just looked away from me and sat down in the grass. For an inkling, I could almost understand how someone could mistreat an animal that was as frustrating as she was at that moment. I entertained the idea of simply going inside and leaving her to roam the streets at will. Surely it wouldn't take long until she became roadkill.

Since she didn't need to poop and I was finished with my summertime bathrobe fashion show for the neighbors, I made her come back inside and back upstairs with me, so I could keep an eye on her while I brushed my teeth, put on deodorant, and got dressed.

Then I fed her and took her for a walk and she acted as if nothing unusual had happened a few minutes ago. She sniffed at everything and wagged her tail as we walked around the block. She finally decided to poop, in our neighbor Brenda’s front yard. The antibiotics have given her very soft, loose poops that are difficult to pick up completely. When I was trying to get as much of it as possible up out of Brenda's grass, I found the plastic poop-scoop bag had a tear in it and I accidentally got some poop on my hand! Yuck!!!

So I immediately brought her home, curtailing her desire to stop and smell everything, so I could wash my hand. I also washed the plastic part of the leash, since my poopy hand had gotten poop on the leash. It was so frustrating, but unfortunately it was not over.

As I washed up, Jordan slurped up a camel's-worth of water before we headed upstairs to my office. As is our routine, she follows me up the stairs and I give her a milk bone and verbal praise for her obedience. She ate it and then laid down to nap. All was well.

An hour or so later she roused herself from her nap and walked out of my office and down the hallway to the entrance of our bedroom. This wasn't alarming to me, since she sometimes migrates from the bare wood floor to an area rug. Since there's no area rug in my office, the one in the hallway seemed the closest, so I kept on working. Sometime later I needed to go to the bathroom so I walked down the hallway and found that Jordan had thrown up on floor next to the area rug. Again I entertained temporary fantasies of retaliation, such as pushing her out the 2nd story window, but instead I cleaned up the vomit and cursed her in my head. But there's more.

Around 3:00 I went downstairs for a drink and to get the mail. Since Jordan followed me downstairs I decided to suggest she go outside and pee, which she did. As a reward for peeing outdoors instead of indoors, I gave her lots of verbal praise and another milk bone. She ate it and slurped up another camel's-worth of water. I put the last few items in the dishwasher, added detergent, and turned it on. As I was walking from the kitchen passed the side door I saw Jordan had thrown up the water and milk bone on the side doormat! This time I considered dropping her off on the doorstep of the local animal shelter (and I wasn't thinking about the 'no-kill' one either), but instead I carefully picked up the rubber-backed mat and hung it over the porch railing, like the other one earlier in the day.

Then I looked at Jordan and said something that intentionally sounded like dialog from a Lifetime movie: "Why are you doing this to me? Why are you ruining my life? All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. Is this how you return that love?" But not feeling quite satisfied with that, I put on my 'street' voice and said "You're skatin' on thin ice, Sister. One more false step from you and its curtains. Curtains I tell ya!!!"

I think the 'street' voice was most effective, as she didn't give me anymore trouble the rest of the day.

Drag Queen name of the day: Jewel Reebox

1 comment:

cb said...

yeah, you need to read my post about my boyfriend's dog who has chosen to defile my apartment (even my couch!) seemingly just for the hell of it.