Swiss Cheese

I do not own a pair of pants that is not riddled with holes. It's one reason why I wear black sweat pants all the time (I think I own four pairs). It's one reason why I don't ever wear "good" pants (another reason being I don't own "good" pants!) What's the point in wearing good clothes when you are surrounded by little claws that are going to rip them to shreds--or at the very least, leave holes in them?

Walt says that when I walk across the floor, I look like the Peanuts character, Pig Pen, only instead of dust, it's dogs.

I don't necessarily like looking like I'm wearing black Swiss Cheese all the time, but I don't see the alternative. If I have been unable to train Lizzie not to jump after all these years, I don't see that I have any chance at all with foster dogs, or with the puppies, when we have them, who have the sharpest claws of all.

I wish I knew how to embroider. It would be nice to embroider a nice design around all these holes and maybe the name of the dog(s) who dug them into my leg.

We had an interesting dog adventure this morning and just by sheer coincidence I had set the video camera up in the living room before it all started to see what I could catch of Sheila and Lizzie at the window. I had no idea what was coming up. The camera ran for about 16 minutes and after the adventure was over, I realized that I probably caught it on video. I had.

You'll have to watch the Video of the Day/Week/Whatever to see what I'm talking about. And just remember, the important part is what you don't see, but only what you hear. I suppose I shouldn't laugh when I watch it, but so far it has made me laugh every time. (And just to reassure you, I have edited down the 16 minutes to only about 3, so it's not going to take all that long to watch it.)

We had lamb chops last night. There was no pretending we were having anything else. All four of the dogs go absolutely berserk from the time I start cooking them until we finish eating. Trying to give the big dogs the t-bones outside while placating the little dogs inside with pieces of gristle is a real challenge. Spencer grabbed his piece and Polly's piece out of my hands. I felt bad about Polly and I had one more bone left so my intent was to let her chew for a bit on the narrow end, but she yanked the whole thing out of my hand. She had chewed off the narrow end by the time I found her and I was able to take it away from her (the larger piece became a treat for Sheila when the other dogs went outside to play this morning.

They are playing outside more now that the weather has improved. But there is still that barking thing. Now that I have set up the sprinkler over by the neighbor's fence, it's fun to go out and turn the thing on full blast and watch them all run for the house.

Now they have figured me out, though. As soon as I stand up and begin to move from my desk they start heading for the house. By the time I get to the back door, they are already in full run heading this direction.

I'm beginning to get the idea that they only bark at the back fence to make me get up from my desk.