Puppy power is alive and well and causing havoc at Banceithin.
Behind this innocent looking face is the cold, calculating mind of a pooing, biting, licking, weeing, jumping, chewing machine. Life, our dining room chairs and my slippers, will never be the same again. And I’m not sure if the cats will ever forgive me no matter how many consolatory cuddles and treats I dish out. If looks could kill I’d be six under feet by now. Stevie and Nessa have conveniently forgotten that they were once the incoming usurpers.
The puppy training regime is going well. Teri can now jump when she should sit, sit when she should walk, and walk when she should be “eliminating” in the designated spot. At this rate we won’t need to buy another bag of chocolate training treats for a year or two. My favourite time of day is sleep time, as it’s only then that I can get in and out of the kitchen without being ambushed by a ball of fluff.
Here’s a question for all you dog owners. Why, oh why, do dogs eat poo? I’d heard tales of this less than endearing canine habit, but thought (and hoped) it was a nasty urban myth. Unfortunately this has proved not to be the case and for Teri a walk around the house is an all you can eat buffet serving a smorgasbord of tasty chicken poo treats. And I thought having cats who lick each others bottoms was bad! Goodness only knows what the chickens get up to in their house at night.