Thinking out loud- almost dead shoes
It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame for being so forgetful that we have a teething puppy in the house. I know this.
But sometimes I’m exhausted at the end of the day and when I plop myself on to the couch to exhale in rest relief, I just drop my flip flops by my side. Without thinking, I’ll then drag my body to bed and leave the shoes where they landed: about 3 feet from a snoring puppy. If you’ve ever seen a snoring puppy curled up on a puffy doggie bed, you’ll know this sweet sight is one of those moments that is worth an Instagram. I’m always overcome with cuteness scenes.
Then sometime before 6 am, I hear a “plop” in the living room. This sound is not so cute.
My first muddled thought is that a puppy has woken up and she’s about the terrorize the house. But my body tells me to just ignore it and pretend I never heard it. I roll over to Todd and whisper “Your dog is awake”.
You see, when Lexi is a bad girl, I call her “his dog”. It’s one of those stages of denial that I go through when I don’t want to admit that I’m the Mommy of a bad kid, and in this case, a crazy puppy. So what better way to cope with these failures and denials then by blaming the dog on Todd. “Our puppy” happens when she’s good and in this case, sleeping.
Another “plop” and the thump, thump, thump sound of puppy feet echo down the hall way. I know what’s happening. I know she has my shoes. But I don’t care, I just want to sleep.
By the time I hear puppy growling, I know that my shoes are dead. Lexi won the battle. The shoes have no chance against the sharp, needle-like teeth of a rhodesian ridgeback pup. They are, after all, brave lion hunters in Africa. So it seems appropriate that she’s exerting her hunting instincts against my helpless shoes.
It’s 6:15 am and I’m already hoping that REI has another pair in my size. Black in color and size 8 1/2, to be exact.
Now it’s 6:30 am and I’m suddenly feeling a rush of adrenaline because I’m letting a 5 month old puppy defeat me and my precious Teva flip flops. I jump up with a simultaneous, firm shout “No Lexi!”. My tired feet barely catch up to my legs as I zip down the hall to the guilty party. And there I find puppy Lexi staring at me with her tail flipping back and forth like a wind shield wiper.
And there I find my shoes and think out loud———oh wait! These flip flops are still wearable!!
Back to bed I go to indulge in another 30 minutes of sleep. This time, I take my shoes to bed with me.
I shall overcome.
Have a great weekend everyone,
diane
So funny! My cats are my ‘husband’s children’ when they’re bad and ‘our kids’ when they’re good. As for the eating of things-that-they-shouldn’t-be-eating, I have a nice collection of 1-strap camisoles because my “husband’s son” likes to chew through strings and such. I’m thankful that he does not chew on shoes, but laces…sigh…I now only buy slip-ons.
Ahhh I just got around to reading this post just now…Lexi is so sweet, she can’t do anything wrong, right? Little Angel (funny name right?) is Curtis’ puppy for sure when she’s bad. She doesn’t really care about shoes which is opposite of Charley when he was a pup…she likes to dig in the yard, attack Curti’s palm trees (she’s trimmed them for him eeek) and now she likes Christmas tree ornaments…sigh. But we still love them…even though they aren’t our pups when they are bad. 🙂
My Lexi chewed my brand new pair of Clark boots last year at this time (she was about 14 weeks). I think I had worn them twice, maybe. At least I got them at 50% off.
Tevas live forever! We are toying with the idea of adding a puppy to the house. The thing I keep thing about is all the things that will be chewed up. 🙂