I mean, I know this is the exact position **I** always get into when I’m ready to snuggle down for a good night’s rest.

(silly dog)

Oh, wait …. is that the back door opening ……. ??????

No.

(damnit.  here i go.)

Dang, I hate when stuff like that happens.

I simply opened the back door and let the dogs in. They had the whole mess cleaned up in about thirty seconds flat. So instead of having to pick up a gazillion oil-covered pieces of salad and nuts and seeds and ramen noodles and pieces of chicken, I just waited until they were done, then got down on my hands and knees with Clorox Wipes to clean off the floor.

If that disgusts you, well, you’ll know not to accept any invitations to eat at my house.

As for me, it balances out the eating of the shoe and all is forgiven.

(in other words, “What Would Barley Chew?”, a continuing series involving our dogs, Barley and Brew, and the innumerous household items they ravage during their time here.)

I don’t think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what I thought this was on my bedroom floor when I rounded the corner.

I also don’t think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what words came out of my mouth upon seeing this, the bewilderment about what on God’s green earth they had possibly eaten to make them this ill, and envisioning the clean-up that would be required.

Never in the history of the world has a pet owner been so happy as to discover it was only a nerf football.

Oh, wait. It’s just Brew and Barley, hanging out with each other like they do every day.

And to think I worried about them not liking one another, Barley being jealous, or Brew not fitting in.

It should be duly noted that for every minute they spend lounging together, they spend four or five playing. Wrestling, jumping, snatching toys from one another, chasing, tail-wagging kind of playing . USUALLY early in the morning, either in my bedroom or on my bed, with ME STILL LYING IN IT, TRYING TO SLEEP.

Stinking dogs.

PS. I love them both dearly, in case you can’t tell.

Evidence for the week of May 4th:

Scrubber brush for outdoor grill. I can only assume there were some meat drippings or fat particles or *something* on this brush because why else would one of them ingest four inches of wood? I seriously doubt dogs care that much about their fiber intake.

Noteworthy because: The brush was safely placed on top of grill, out of reach. How they got it? Who knows.

American Express card. Duly noted that this is a promotional American Express card, delivered in the junk mail. Not sure if the dogs are trying to make a statement about my spending habits, or just liked it because it was shiny.

Noteworthy because: I open all the mail, and don’t recall ever seeing this arrive. Beginning to suspect dogs are going outside, opening mailbox with their little paws, and taking items for themselves.

Various pens and pencils located God only knows around the house. Pens and pencils left ANYWHERE in the house are automatically fair game. Primary culprit: Barley. I can only assume she is stealing pens in an attempt to write her own ransom note, hoping to find a new family, preferably one that can afford a *real* American Express card.

Noteworthy because: Despite losing at least a dozen writing instruments, the human people in this house are still surprised every time it happens.

Shoe. Again. This is like, the fifth pair. Yet do my children think it might be wise to actually put their shoes AWAY when they take them off their feet? No, they do not. So prepare to see lots more shoe photos in future editions of “WWBC?” And prepare also to see the Escoe kids going around town barefoot because if they can’t be bothered to put their shoes away at night, then I can’t be bothered to buy more.

Noteworthy because: it’s not noteworthy at all. They’re shoes. They smell like leather and feet — of course dogs love them.

Scarf. A gift to Brayden, and the one chewed item she is most annoyed about. Especially considering it was hanging from a hook in her locker, exactly where it should be, and apparently the dogs grabbed hold and dragged it out before chewing a hole in it.

Noteworthy because: It’s such a fluffy, poofy scarf that I suspect she can still wear it and the hole won’t even be noticeable. Also noteworthy because if these dogs are smart enough to grab a scarf, hanging from a hook, then they’re smart enough to grab a dishtowel hanging from the refrigerator door, and bring me a Diet Dr. Pepper, right? Let the training begin!

Water jug. First, we took a plastic bowl outside to fill with drinking water for them, and they dragged it out into the yard and chewed it up (photo unavailable). So we bought a stainless steel water bowl, which they also dragged into the yard and dumped out all the water. Worried that they would go the entire day without water if that behavior continued, I bought this one-gallon water jug that you fill, and place upside down in its own bowl, and the water-pressure keeps the bowl full. Or some other scientific-y explanation like that. I filled it, placed it outside, and when I returned half an hour later, this is what I found.

Noteworthy because: I paid $15.99 for this water jug and bowl. They tore it up in less than half an hour. According to my calculations, that provided entertainment to our dogs at the impressive rate of $32.00 per hour, or $768.00 per day. I think next time I’ll just by another nyla-bone for ten bucks and be done with it.

And thus ends this week’s edition of “WWBC?” Tune in next time to see what other various and sundry household items the dogs have claimed for themselves and chewed into pieces …. we can only hope they chew up the vet bill from the exploratory surgery I have no doubt is in their future.

I mean, you can plainly see that he’s stressed to the max. All this tension can’t be good for him.

How long must he fret and worry that the kids don’t like him? That the other dog doesn’t like him? How long must he carry around this burden of anxiety???

I just hope he learns to relax before he gets an ulcer.

Introducing the newest member of our family (which is now closely starting to resemble a zoo around here, although I did put my foot down FIRMLY at Brayden’s request for a pet rat yesterday …)

Brew.

Blaine and I had always said we would have two dogs …. we bought Barley and then, quite frankly, just got lazy. Too much food required, too much maintenance, too much brushing, too much vacuuming …. in all honesty, the primary deterrent, in my opinion, was that there would be TOO MUCH POOP in the back yard.

Barley seemed perfectly content being the only dog for our family. She got plenty of attention and love, but a funny thing happened …. after we brought Blackie the cat inside and made him a house-cat (which by the way, is still going swimmingly) we realized how ….. how …. how …. how pathetic and lonely Barley must really be!

She would try SO HARD to play with the cat, and the cat was all, “Hummph. I am superior to you. Go away.” It was quite ridiculously sad, actually.

And we realized that although we love Barley dearly, she was spending a large number of hours each day, mainly while the kids are in school …. alone. Sad and lonely. So we decided a playmate was in order.

Wow. This was pretty much the best decision we ever made.

We went to the local no-kill shelter and explained we needed a dog that was good with kids, good with other dogs, AND good with cats. Kind of a tall order, but we were hopeful. We had taken Barley with us, and the first dog they brought out promptly growled at her, and was so (head)strong I could barely control him on a leash. Sorry, “Chester”, you weren’t the one for our family.

The next dog they brought out seemed nice enough, the kids liked him, there was no obvious dissension between he and Barley …. but I don’t know. It just didn’t feel like “the one” ….. so, keeping “Ronald” on our maybe-list, we asked for one more.

Then they brought out this guy, who they were calling “Walter”. I doubt he’s full-blood, but at least looked mainly like a chocolate lab …. calm, gentle, leash-trained, didn’t lick, didn’t jump, sat quietly and let all of us pet him ………….. granted, he and Barley didn’t have much to do with one another, but hey, by that point she had discovered the pond at the dog park next door and she wasn’t having anything to do with ANYONE who wasn’t throwing a stick in for her retrieve time and again. So we played with “Walter”, watched him interact positively with the other dogs at the park, watched one dog lump a lot of other dogs, and decided we would give it a go.

And so we brought Walter home, re-named him Brew, and promptly fell in love.

Kellen asked, “What is his middle name?” And I replied, “Ski”. Yeah. Because we’re still classy like that.

Our vet says he’s about two years old and in good health …. sadly, he had spent the last five months in the shelter, and they had no idea how long he had been in the pound before that.

With only a few accidents he appears mostly house-trained (hey, you can’t be angry when they haven’t figured out where the back door is yet) and the first few days he was extremely calm.

The shelter had a 7-day return policy, and at the end of the 7-days, I announced to the kids, “Well, I’ve decided to keep Brew because he’s better behaved and return Barley-the-spaz!”

Now, almost two weeks later, he is definitely coming out of his shell. The tail is wagging all the time, he initiates petting, and is playing more with toys …. although he still completely cowers if anyone raises a voice, which makes me wonder about the life he had before the pound (and makes me cringe a little on the inside ….)

Best of all, he and Barley are fast buds. Wrestling, jumping, running, playing tug of war ……. it’s been a great reminder to us that two dogs are better than one, everyone needs friends, and our only regret is that we didn’t do this months ago.

ALTHOUGH!!!

We’ve noticed, as he’s coming out of his shell, that it appears they didn’t feed him much at the shelter. I mean, how else could you explain hunger like this:

A book:

A whole set of books!:

A boot:

And the age-less, time-less classic …… the dog ate my homework:

(Yep, that’s Kellen’s “creative paper doll project” due this week …..)

Needless to say, yesterday afternoon saw us at Petsmart, buying some additional, more appropriate chew toys. And thinking perhaps we shouldn’t leave them inside the house without direct supervision.

Barley: “I am playful and full of energy and how could *anyone* not want to be my bestest, bestest, very bestest friend???”

Blackie: “You are a waste of oxygen and I mock your vapid playfulness. Please go away you stupid creature, and leave my new family all to me, as the clearly superior animal that I am, the way God intended it.”

Barley: “Come on! We can totally play together! I’ll even share my toys and wag my tail and pant excitedly to show you my friendliness! And if you really want, I could chase you and jump on you and knock you down and slobber on you, just like I do the human people in this house!! Please?! Please?! Pretty-pretty-prettttyyyyyyyyyyyy pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaassssseeeeeeeeeeee?!?!?!?!?”

Barley: “Hey, here you are! I was looking for you in the living room to show you my new chew toy and you disappeared ….. what are you doing here in the bedroom? Wanna play? Huh? Huh? Do you, do you, do you????”

Blackie: “I am warning you, miscreant. You are venturing far closer than you have the right. I prefer never to see your goofy face again. See the mighty cat teeth — consider yourself warned.”

Barley: “Hey, look! You’re smiling at me! We’re going to have great fun and get to be life-long friends ….. I just know it!!!”

Blackie: “I can’t take it any more, you stupid, demented dog! Your kind is an affront to humanity and I will use my superior cat paws to put you in your place!”

Barley: “Oh, shit. He’s going all ninja-cat-warrior on me.”

Blackie: “I will batter your stupid, ugly dog ears, until you get it through your thick skull that I am better than you, since you clearly don’t hear me telling you to LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”

Blackie: “And then I will batter your stupid, ugly dog nose so you quit sticking it in places that don’t belong to you! How DARE YOU touch my silky, heavenly fur and sniff me with that disgusting snout? Surely by now even someone as pathetic as you will get a clue.”

Barley: “That hurt, man. That hurt me, real bad. And I don’t mean my nose …. I mean it hurt me — inside. Despite my slobber and rough-housing and muddy paws everywhere, I’m still a sensitive soul …. with feelings. Why does that evil cat have to be so mean???”

Barley: “I think I’ll just sit here with my human person and chew on some shoes to make myself feel better. While I’m at it, can anyone tell me why the human people have so much trouble putting away laundry? Every time I come in here to chew on shoes there are all these tempting clothes in baskets but I get in trouble for eating any of it. What’s up with that???”

Barley: “And listen to me, cat creature, I know some day I will be triumphant and you will give in and be friends with me! Who can resist adorable-bandana-ness as this??”

Blackie: “Oh, for pete’s sake. I’m hiding under this bed until that dense creature figures it out and LEAVES ME THE HELL ALONE.”

*********************************************
PS. For the record, the 3am games of tag-you’re-it-no-tag-you’re-it in my bedroom — and sometimes even on my bed — WHILE I’M SLEEPING IN IT — tell me that the two of them are actually becoming very good friends.