Life with an adorable little poopmonster.

Okay-- so the only thing I needed for last night's blog was a goat, because the whole thing was a goat rutting cluster-hump of technology and exhausted human.

Can't promise I'll be more coherent today-- but I can tell you I've got links!

First of all-- we've got this cute-as-hell cover for Freckles, which I adore, and I hope people like, even though this completely innocuous little story has already sparked a mild amount of controversy regarding the dog's potty training.

Freckles poops a lot--and she has no idea she's doing it, and it's driving some readers crazy--which I find funny, given that I live with the little shitmonster in real life.

Yeah, it probably sounds like I'm exaggerating, but our first dog, Chiquita, pretty much walked into our house and scratched on the back door to go potty--with no training at all.  See? After that, the difference between a Rottweiler-cross and a ShiTzu/Chihuahua mix is staggering.

Yes--of course we eventually house-trained Geoffie--if you've followed the blog you've seen it happen.

  She has accidents--if I don't get up and let the two dogs out the back door early in the morning, any messes that happen are my fault--and the rain throws Geoffie off every time. She doesn't like the rain, she doesn't understand going potty in the rain, and unless I'm taking her on a walk with the ultimate potty goal in mind, she has misses--I need to remember the pee-pad in bad weather, no two ways about it.  But the fact remains that, with Johnnie, the Chihuahua/mini-pin mix, it took a couple of weeks--maybe--of walking him on a schedule and showing him where the door was when he was getting ready to go. Boom. He was potty trained.  As easy as Chiquita? No. But doable.

With Geoffie?  Well, she frequently didn't know she was pooping, so she regarded any efforts on our part to STOP her from pooping as highly entertaining, yet not exactly relevant to her person.

We went through a lot of pee-pads and some laundry, and that's just the truth. We persevered--but it's fortunate our carpets were old to begin with.

And we understood the people who believed in crate training-- we've seen it work, we've seen happy dogs who love it. But it wasn't for OUR household--and we knew that taking a little longer with the potty training was going to be the result.

I just--like tonight--looked up most difficult breeds to potty train on the internet--in one article Chihuahuas were in the top five, in another article ShiTzus were in the top three, and in a couple of them, both dogs were in the top ten. Given that Freckles (and Geoffie) is BOTH these dogs--and our protagonist, Carter, hasn't potty trained a goldfish in his entire life, I think we need to give Carter--and new pet owners--a bit of a break. There's a reason for carpet treatment and a reason pet ownership isn't for everyone. And a reason I take the dogs on a walk every morning possible at around the same time, and I carry the little poop bags with me. But it takes a schedule and organization and reprioritizing your life a little--and remember who you're dealing with.  I mean me. Remember you're dealing with me, and I'm pretty candid about my organizational skills and my blank moments of being a completely clueless mooncalf.  I probably know--better than anyone--all the ways you can screw up a thing that depends upon clockwork organization and timing, because clockwork organization and timing aren't in my makeup.

And even if they were, having an animal can screw that up right quick.

I just hope people reserve judgment in this fluffy holiday piece about a dog.  The whole point was that the dog's owner wasn't prepared for dog ownership but he did his best, and learned about being a better human being in the process. Given that idea, judging people for their learning curve is sort of mean, when they're trying to learn to love a small alien being who doesn't think as they do.

Just saying.

So, not exactly a rant--more like a "C'mon, guys--it's just like new babies, poop happens," breakdown. I'm sure I've offended somebody, and I'm sorry.  Just, you know. Poop. Everyone does it. Even 8 lb. dogs.

So-- there's that.

And there's this.  It's my favorite thing right now. I could listen to this song a thousand times. But my family really wishes I'd stop.



The lead singer has me wibbly in the ladyparts. I gots no other words.