Whenever I go into my family room and look at the detritus on the floor, I realize that if love is indeed a battlefield, my house is ground zero for fighting.
It works like this:
Small Dog now owns the household.
Small Dog has a lot of energy.
No one is capable of playing 23 hours a day to keep Small Dog entertained and/or occupied.
Sacrifices must be made on a regular basis.
Thrift stores sell items which can be sacrificed quickly, easily, and inexpensively.
At Christmas one of the holiday specials has a bit about the Island of Misfit Toys ... what really happens to them, they go to thrift stores. Then I buy the unwanted stuffed animals.
The older dog liked to take his aggression out on them because it was safe and they didn't fight back.
Small Dog likes anything that smells like the older dog, will let her bite on it, and is well stuffed.
Unfortunately, I fit much of that criteria. I allowed her to bite my fingers and my hands the first few days when she wasn't able to be consoled - she never broke skin and got bored quickly. I am overly well stuffed (my weight would be ideal if I were almost 8 feet tall). I have lived in the same household as older dog for years, so we smell a lot alike.
Small Dog has discovered all stuffed animals, unused pillows, and towels that haven't made it into the hamper ... therefore, all are toys to be sacrificed on the battlefield.
Just remember, size doesn't matter ... enthusiasm does.
1 comment:
Hi! I ve been missing you! Sonds like the newest recruit is giivng you a hard time! But in a dear way....
love
r
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