Poopster Beaster

I am a bad egg. 

At the end of my last post I promised more puppy pictures and a conclusion to the Bea & Briggs story.  I did not deliver. 

I promised witty commentary

Something beyond 4th grade writing...

I am sad to say...

I failed you.

I have been traumatized, rendered unable to type, speak or communicate coherent thought.  Not that any of my thoughts up to this point have been consistently coherent, mind you.  Quite sadly, most of what comes out of my brain is mainly drivel, punctuated by cute pictures of dogs - which apparently keeps you coming back for more.  I know the truth, it my camera you love.  *sigh* 

Kind of like teenagers. They only love you when you have money in your wallet.  Actually, that is something my husband has muttered a time or two about me. 

What was I saying?  Oh yes...self pitying whining.  Pardon me while I go grab some cheese to go with my wine. 

I think I have a defective puppy. 

Don't let these pictures fool you...

She may look cute, cuddly and defenseless

She is not.  She is coming by her nick name "Beazlebub" honestly. 

A confident, strong willed and sneaky little stinker who can escape her x-pen, rip skin off your ear, bite your eyelid & strip the flesh from your ankle in sudden strike attacks from beneath the couch.

She had me fooled.  The potty training was going so well.  She was going outside so nicely, when I didnt make it there on time to take her out, she peed on her potty pad.  I was lulled into an unaware soft state of 'bliss'. 

Oh no....she waited until I had my guard down, then took to relieving herself UNDER the Christmas tree. 

And, all the time I thought she was sooooo nicely pooping outside because I never found it in her pen?  Oh no.   

I caught her today, she had a turd in her mouth and ran behind the curtain and ATE IT!  Then before I could grab the next one, she darted out snatched it up and ATE THAT ONE TOO!  Right in front of me.  She had a self satisfied, gleeful little grin on her poop smeared lips. 

The only one she didn't get was the one that was smashed to the knee of my jeans. 

*Insert GAGGGGING here*

I am not in love with puppy breath anymore. 

Nope....

She has POOPY breath.   Ewwwwww.....

I have been afflicted by post traumatic poopy disorder. 

Awwwwwww.....she is toooooo cute not to cuddle, even if she has poopy breath. 

 

 

Digilence is the key.  That and a newspaper rolled up, to smack myself in the head with...every time she has an accident, it is my fault.  I suppose the poopy breath is mine too..gotta scoop those turds a little faster next time.  Apparently 30 seconds after it falls from her cute little behind is not fast enough.  

 

*sigh*