Life keeps throwing curveballs

This may be a fast post because life, once again, is not in my control...as if it ever was.

BAGMAN: Why do you have to start off every post by whining?!!!"

BUTLER: "Leave him alone. He slept on the couch last night and he's exhausted."

BAGMAN: "But doesn't he start almost every post by whining, usually about not having enough time?"

BUTLER: "Well, I was not going to mention it, but I have been keeping statistics and he does start 64.7% of them that way."

I'll start again...although I actually think my percentages are going to go up over the next week or so.

Anyhow, Brian, Melody, and Conner were taking a vacation in Myrtle Beach and my sister-in-law was taking care of their dogs. We have already adopted Daisy, the terrier/opossum mix. So she was watching Rosie and Roxie...who have been tied in their back yard pending repair to the fence. It has become increasingly obvious, however, that Roxie, the rottweiler/rottweiler mix will be capable of knocking down any fence capable of being built by man.

Roxie is, I have to admit, the most sweet, loveable, lick-happy, intelligent dog I know. But...

Anyhow, Kathy (Karen's sister-in-law) called us Sunday, in tears. Since the kids have been gone for a week, she has had more interaction with her and she just couldn't stand to see her standing forlorn in the back yard anymore. Karen said, "Okay. We'll just have to take her and housebreak her and turn her into an indoor dog."

Karen looked at me. I have grown attached to Roxie too, but said, "This is a bad idea on so many levels that I can't count them."

BUTLER: "739."

BAGMAN: "Aw go for it."

Kathy and Karen always win, of course, so it wasn't long before we were at Kathy's house about to give Roxie a bath before allowing her in Karen's car for the ride home. We tied her to a tree and she immediately broke her collar. So I wrestled her, still filthy, into the car. We stopped at Petsmart for the biggest halter collar they sold brought her to our house and began to wash her again. She allowed herself to be soaked with the garden hose and totally lathered up with flea soap and then she decided she had enough and lurched, half-free of the halter and I tackle her, wrapping my arms around her like a greased pig.

Where is the movie camera when you need it?!! For the next five minutes, she and I rolled on the ground, water hose soaking both of us, lather getting in my eyes...she was a worthy opponent but I outweighed her and have a black belt in the martial arts. But it was close.

Then we introduced her to the other animals. She and Daisy knew each other (sort of) and almost wanted to play, but it kept turning into fighting. Growling, snapping -- at each other, never at me -- and I was rolling around again. Sally was too old to be very aggressive and Roxie wasn't mean toward her, just wanting to lick her crotch with a tongue that can knock over grown men. It was like watching Hulk Hogan hug Mother Theresa. Sweet but painful.

Roxie's tongue looking for a target
Sally resigned to living with giants

We got through that one.

Roxie learned to walk around the house without knocking over too much furniture although keeping her off the leather couch was a problem.

We began a feeding schedule and a walk-in-the-yard schedule. She is intelligent but intelligence doesn't mean much if you've never been educated. So walking Roxie became the perfect example of closing the barn door after the horse has left. And, believe me, horses have smaller bowels and bladders than Roxie. We closed off all the rooms in the house we could, placed chairs on all the couches, and placed mops and rolls of papertowels in every room.

The cats were moved to the Master bedroom with food and litter box in the master bath. They objected at first but one look at Roxie through the crack in the door and they never meowed again.

So I slept on the couch which was really more guard duty than sleep. I woke up several times to odd noises and went to stop Roxie from (1) chewing the fringe on the rugs, (2) eating the baby's rattle, (3) eating a ping pong ball, (4) knocking a chair off the couch, etc. etc. Roxie seemed to enjoy this game because the few times that I fell deeply enough asleep to miss one of her weird noises, she would sneak over to the couch and lick me. This was like being awakened by someone slapping you in the face with a wet beachtowel. I am thinking that if the CIA knew about her, they could use her for interrogations instead of waterboarding.

Today I have to go to work. The kids will be coming back from Myrtle Beach and maybe something will be worked out. I think that Karen may discover that being alone with three dogs, two cats, and Conner is more than she can handle. But maybe I underestimate my wife.

And I have to admit that Roxie does seem to love me alot. She is now sleeping beside me. I don't know why she gets to sleep after keeping me awake all night. I'm really tempted to sneak over and give her a big sloppy lick on her face to wake her up. But she'd probably love it.

I hope I don't fall asleep at work.

This is still a bad idea on so many levels.