Good News/Bad News

The Good News is that the dogs lived.  The Bad News is that BOTH dogs lived.

Ok - I get it.  The new/bad dog is NOT free.  Why stop now?

I admit it.  I do not know how to control this new/bad dog. Nuka rules this house like Queen Latifa on steroids.   I am conquered but not a quitter. I am a believer in professional help for everything from home repairs to psychotherapy.  Along that vein, I hired a certified dog trainer to come to the house yesterday.  She is the Northern Illinois dog whisperer.  For two and a half hours, she walked me through the appropriate  training techniques.  The dog sat, waited, yielded, dropped, left it, and came.  By the end of the appointment, the dog was responding to cues like a champ.  Calm and firm with my new found dog training skills,  I clucked, commanded, then commended through the day with amazing results!  Upon resting my head on the pillow last night, the dog crated and tucked in, I closed my eyes with the confidence of Cesar (the TV dog guy, not the Roman Emperor--spelled differently) himself.

Waking this am, still determined that I was master and commander and not a slave to the dog's schedule, I slept in until 7:40.  I woke to a quiet house... no barking or whining. Maybe this was working!

Maybe not.  Achilles and I went to the basement to get Nuka out of the crate.  Comparable to Hurricane Sandy, she hurdled out of the  box.  In similar storm-like aftermath, the crate was completely flooded....pee everywhere.  Ugh.  I let the dogs out the basement door and turned to go clean up the soggy yellow bed and blankets.  Guess what?  Nuka didn't have to pee - already did that!  So she refused to go off of the deck into the yard.  Out I go, into the frozen tundra, in my socks and pj's, to shove her onto the yard.  Ok--good---she is pooping... good catch on my part (I'm thinking).  Achilles finishes all of his business and heads for the open door.  Nuka sees the activity and mid sphincter squeeze, bolts back to the deck and into the house.  She leaves a trail of poop nuggets in Hansel and Gretel fashion through the basement and up the stairs. I don't know what to tackle first... the pee or the poop.  I elect to go bypass  door number one and go for number two.  I had no sooner gathered the paper towels and Resolve, when the brown whirling dervish zoomed past after having frantically guzzled potty water.  I turned to reprimand her, but, just as I took a breath, she stopped just short of the door... and threw up.

Sigh..........