Wednesday, October 25, 2006

What the Heck is Going On?

Life ain't so great of late. I don't know what has gotten into Mom and Dad, but suddenly they think they are boss. Who are they kidding!

They have embarked on this new nonsense of putting me in my house when they leave for work. Reportedly, this is because of the complaining neighbor again. He shall remain nameless - I don't want to risk a lawsuit now that my blog is award-winning and read the world over - oh what the hell, let's make up a dark, evil name to represent him...I'll throw it out to you, to give me some ideas...let me know!

So anyway, I like my house, but I don't like being forced into my house with the door closed. Yesterday Dad put me in there and I went rather beserk. They thought they were clever by leaving me a tiny waterbowl, dad's smelly socks ("oh your scent will comfort him," said my Mom. Comfort my ass Mom, they honk!!), treats and chews. They also read somewhere to cover the crate with a blanket to make it more like a den. What idiots. This is the 21st Century people, I am no longer a wolf like my ancestors. I dig sleeping in beds, not in cages disguised as dens! So anyway, while they abandoned me, I tore up Dad's socks, I overturned the water dish (not my wisest move in retrospect, since I ended up having to lie on a soggy mattress), scattered my chews and pulled the crate cover through the crate bars and tried to rip that up. My intent was simple - show those fools I was UNHAPPY.

But then this morning, Mom shoved me in there again. She then went to her bedroom to get a wooly hat (it's gone cold) and would you know it, genius that I am, I managed to bust out of the crate and went running and diving onto Mom and Dad's bed! Oh what pandemonium. Mom was shocked. And boy did I then make it tough for her to catch me and put me back in there. But fool that I am - I fell for the fetch yummy turkey treat thrown into crate trick. This time Mom made sure she had the door latched properly, and I was stuck. I howled. I cried. I barked. My Mother was stoic. And she left.

I heard her tell Dad later that she fretted all day about me being in the crate all day. Bloody right she should fret. But the joke of it is, when she came home from work, two hours early worried about me...I wasn't in my crate! Gracie's Mom had come over at 10:30am to rescue me and take me to play at her house with Gracie, Kila and the new kitty Mojo. Oh I can shit myself laughing picturing Mom worrying about me ripping up the crate when all along I was happily playing at Gracie's house! heh heh, it cracks me up.

Mom was not as amused. But I know she was happy for me.

On the way to our evening walk, we ran right into Nameless Neighbor and he started lecturing Mom about crating me and being consistent. Mom asked for him to tell her when he will be working and not home during the day so I don't have to stay in my house, but he refused saying, "consider me home every day from 9-5pm."
If I wasn't a peace loving canine, I would bite his ass. Then again, maybe not. It probably smells worse than Dad's socks.



Wired for Mackie said...

Darth the about Rexhole....oh, was I supposed to leave his name out of it? Hmmnnn
I can't believe they carted you with socks, my mom and dad would never do that because I'd eat them! hehehe!
Rexella Deville...Rex Ruthless...or how about just plain the Grinch...
(hehehehe, Rex ruthless, now that's good!)

Your pal, Mackie

Daniella said...

Yeah, whole I idea is to keep his name OUT of it please. But excellent creativity Mackie! Maybe I should eat the sock, maybe that would cure them of this lunacy.


Anonymous said...

Hey Axel-
My Pat was talking to her 83 year old mother about you! The words of wisdom from Grandma are that perhaps Dani should get YOU a pet. She thought perhaps another dog (a breed that doesn't bark?), a parrot (assuming that you have a warm apartment and no gas stove), or even a kitty who could get along with you. Grandma thinks you are lonely during your days at home and desire companionship. She also wondered if Dani could take you to work of if another human who stays at home could pup sit you.
Can't ignore the advice of an 83 year old! that is a LOT of dog years!

Anonymous said...

Hey Axel,

My mom said why don't you refer to him as Mr. Wilson (Dennis the Menace's meany next door neighbor)? After all, he's mean and he thinks you're a menace. But really, you're a guy who just wants to have fun - that's the fox terrier way!

Your buddy, Smitty

Daniella said...

Pippin, with all due respect to your decrepid old Grandma...
1. Dad is allergic to cats. Mom doesn't dig them.
2. Birds freak out mom - can't stand caged ones. And all we need is a talking parrot swearing obscenities at the neighbor all day.
3. Mom and Dad rent. Contract says ONE dog only. Besides which, I am enough of a handful and I may teach the new one to bark and we could have double the trouble.

4. Mom's work - no dogs or pets

5. Mom is going to pay a neighbor to free me from my crate during the day...

Tell grandma to stick to knitting. LOL


PS Smitty, good suggestion bud!

ave fénix que renace said...

How about Rex Ruther?

Gus said...

dear Axel:
When I came to live with muzzer I had "separation anxiety." I did the same kinds of things you do in your crate. Except, I bit the crate wires so hard they bent, and hurt my bottom tooth.

Now I am lots better. We left the crate in Virginia. I am a mellow fellow. Everyone asks muzzer what she did to cure me.

Muzzer says "It's simple. We never leave him alone." hehehe

Got them trained. Now I go to work with muzzer two days a week. On Thursdays my friend Noni comes to play with us. (muzzer thinks she cleans, but we know better, don't we?) Tuesdays and Fridays my dad is home right after lunch, and now I have Travis and Teka to play with too.

Doesn't work for everybody. But I like it.

PS...tell your mom I STILL bark a lot.


Egan said...

Axel, let me give you wiry secret that made my mom and dad give up forever on the crate concept. When I tired all the same things you did to no avail, I ramped it up. Now, a note of caution, you will pay the price of some discomfort for this but it really works. What you do is start going potty in your crate. Every day. Multiple times a day. Don't just do it in a tidy corner, nooooo, do it everywhere, then jump around in it and spread it all over. After your mom and dad have to take that big crate outside and scrub it and spray it with a hose for about the 14th time, while muttering a lot of bad words, the crate will suddenly magically disappear and you'll be FREE! Good luck!

Anonymous said...

O Axel: just awful that the anti dog man who’s name we shall not mention is at it again (did he ever stop) Mom and I thought about it and we came up with “Steerforth” as in James or Uriah Heep. Maybe I could drop a copy of David Copperfield on (the man who’s name we shall not mention) door step? Do you think he would get it? WFT-Astrid

Dean-O! said...

Why not get a really BIG book & drop it directly on the nasty neighbour?

Anyway, Axel, I just wanted to let you know that you have inspired me. Yesterday, when mom left me home -- something I ALWAYS discourage by grabbing whatever clothing I can get my teeth on & tugging, tugging, tugging & sometimes I manage to get into her pocket to grap a glove & make off with it into my crate, hehe! Mom says that she walks around in tatters because of me, hehe!
Anyway -- as soon as she got to the elevator, I started barking like mad! No more Mr. Good Behaviour! I just barked my stupid head off -- I am sure that the whole building heard my magnficient, piercing bark!
Even the cranky lady at the end of the hall who is always screaming at mon to put that dog on a leash!!! & the Arabs on the other side, who have to bathe, wash their clothes & pray for hours if I so much as brush against them! Oh Axel, it felt so good to let out all those woofs!!!

PS - There was hell to came busting back into the apartment, whacking the wall with a newspaper & calling me a wicked, wicked dog. OOPS! I scooted right into my crate & closed the door behind you think that she meant it when she said that if I did that again, I would have to wear a sign that says ’Free to a good home’???

Agatha and Archie said...

Axel,Just give us his name buddy, and we will take care of him for you. As a team Archie and I can be quite something. He thinks you bark alot? Tell him to come up to Boston and hear 2 going at it the same time at 11 oclock at night!!I think all of us should meet up at his house and give him a run for his money! There is power in WFT numbers!!! Love, Agatha and Archie who will work on this problem . FREE AXEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

Dear Axel,

My mother has been telling me a lot about you. She said that she has been reading your blog and we are very close in age. I was born on Aug. 13th 2005 and my mom picked me up at the airport on Oct. 8th, 2005. Since then I have experienced a lot of the same things you have in your first year of life in your new home. You know, we are just a couple of crazy guys! Good luck with the next door neighbor, he just has nothing better to do. Don't mind him!

Turbo the WFT

PS. My mother wanted to name me charlie, but my father had a few names on his mind, such as yours Axel, Turbo, and a few other tough guy names. I am glad my father got to pick the name. The name Turbo fits me perfectly!

Bogart H. Devil said...

How about Dexhole?

(inspired by Mackie)