current entry older entries message board contact
6:23 a.m. - 2002-09-20

GOODBYE MAGGIE

Sooooo....we took my dog Maggie to the pound yesterday.

I didn't mention it yesterday, because I really didn't want to have to deal with everyone saying "How could you, Uncle Bob?? You're a heartless bastard, Uncle Bob!!"

Because even though this dog gets on my every last nerve ... I still love her and remember the good times we've had with her.

Wednesday night, before we went to bed, I looked straight at Maggie and said "Do you need to go outside and go potty?"

She looked at me. Stared at me.

And then just opened up the bladder and spilt a piss puddle as big as a dinner plate in our bedroom.

This infuriated both Susie and I to no end. It marked the ninth time in 24 hours that she had peed on the brand new carpet .

This may not seem like much to you. "Oh Uncle Bob," you're thinking. "It's only carpet. It can be replaced!"

I know it can.

But do you have $7,000 you can loan me to replace the carpet? I'm good for it, I swear. I'll have you paid off in 15 years...promise.

No??

Okay. Then shut the hell up with the "It's only carpet, it can be replaced" shit.

Sooooo...Wednesday night we discussed it for at least an hour and decided that we had no choice. We had to get rid of the dog for our own sanity.

Yesterday I got up and went to the dentist to get my teeth cleaned. They're now pearly white with no problems whatsoever. I'm like freakin' Donny Osmond over here. A mouthful of perfect choppers.

I come home and we get the dog. She knows something is up. We've packed up all her belongings in two large paper sacks.

I asked Susie if we were doing the right thing and she said she thought we were. I agreed.

The three of us got in the car and made the long drive to the pound.

Susie's crying the whole way, and mentions that she always thought that life with Maggie would be just like the poem that we had clipped out of an Ann Landers column when Maggie was a puppy and had fastened to the side of the refrigerator with a magnet where it stayed for ten years until it was yellowed and dog eared.

"I just keep thinking of the line in the poem where the dog says that when she gets too old to enjoy life anymore that we make the right decision and put her to sleep," she sobbed.

That was the LAST thing I needed to hear. That poem was a tearjerker and I had forgotten all about it.

We got there and Maggie's all happy..."New place to pee! New place to pee!"

So she's peeing everywhere during her last moments of being a free dog.

We take her inside and tell the girl up front that we've moved and can no longer keep the dog.

She begins to fill out the paperwork and asked if Maggie has a bad temperment or if she's prone to running off and not staying in the yard.

We answer no to both and admit that the reason we're getting rid of her is that she won't quit peeing on the carpet.

The girl looked at us.

"With all due respect," she said. "That's a horrible reason to get rid of your dog. How could you, Uncle Bob? You're a heartless bastard, Uncle Bob."

We both gulped.

She explained that this is what dogs do in new homes...they pee. Their surroundings have changed and they're disoriented. It takes a month...sometimes two ... to get them back to normal.

We stood there.

"How old is she?" the girl asked.

"Twelve and a half years old," I answered, since Susie was now sobbing again and couldn't talk.

"I'll be honest," the girl said. "Her chances of being adopted are almost nil. People don't come here looking for dogs that are that old...they want dogs that still have a long life ahead of them. They don't want to adopt a dog and have it die in a few years."

We gulped again.

"Honestly, I would never bring my dog here," she said.

We gulped again.

"How long do you keep them before you put them to sleep?" I asked.

"There's no set date," she said. "It's a matter of if we have enough space. If she's been here a while and nobody has shown any interest in her and we need the space, they'll probably euthanize her."

Gulp City.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" the girl asked.

We stood there.

No, we weren't sure we wanted to do this.

Finally, I said "Alright then...let's go."

"Give her another chance," the girl called after us. "Buy some spray to put on your carpet to deter her from urinating. Anything."

Now Susie was sobbing even harder which kinda shocked me. After we had spared the dog's life, I expected her to stop the sobbing.

We got back in the car. Maggie was oblivious to how close she had come to being not only kicked out of the family, but slammed up against death's door by the collar like a drunken asshole starting shit in a bar. She just had her head out the window, tongue hanging out, enjoying the impromptu ride in the car.

We stopped at the local pet store that allows you to bring your pets inside with you and have them shit all over the floor or whatever pets do when they get to go someplace with rows of rawhides for their perusal.

We ordered a doggie door that fits inside your sliding glass door. It set us back $189 and should be here in a week.

The truth is...ever since Maggie's doggie door was taken away from her, she's been on our every last nerve. This wasn't her fault. Everything was cool until she no longer had a doggie door.

We also bought a ....ummmm... Bissell Stain Lifter? It sucks stains right out of the carpet.

We got to use it last night when Maggie unloaded Piss Stain #10 in the doorway to our bedroom.

That thing worked like a charm. There's no trace of a piss stain anywhere.

And neither one of us even raised our voices over it. It's cool now. We have a Stain Lifter. Piss wherever you want, dog. We'll suck that bitch right outta the carpet before your little doggie poon dries.

Thank you, Mr. Bissell.

You rawk.


Got home from our excursion and there was a sign at the front of the subdivision.

"Community Yard Sale Saturday".

Dammit!

This only gave us two days to get everything together for a yard sale.

We busted our collective asses yesterday, getting stuff unboxed and put in new boxes.

I don't expect to make too much money tomorrow since we're all the way in the back of the subdivision and our house can no longer be seen from a distance thanks to the construction of two new houses next to us.

But hey...ten bucks would be more than what we started with.


That's it from here. There's more, but I've got a yard sale I have to get ready for, a son and wife to get out of bed and off to daycare and work respectively, shrubs to water, sod to water, boxes to unpack and a dog to start showing love towards.

Have a good 'un.

0 comments so far
The last one/The next one


NEW!!!Come and write some BAD EROTICA with the cool kids!

My Diaryland Trading Card
Now go write a Suck Ass Poem™
Write me a note here.
Read my notes here.
Hey! Take the Uncle Bob Quiz!
What the hell! May as well take the wildly popular Uncle Bob Second Quiz too!
Thanks Diaryland
Designed by Lisa


CURRENT - ARCHIVES - MESSAGES - EMAIL


Have you read these?

The End Of Uncle Bob - 12:28 p.m. , 2009-02-19

Losing Focus While Trying To Write A Blog Entry Is Cool. - 1:47 p.m. , 2008-12-04

Buck Up Junior, You Could Be Digging Ditches - 11:36 p.m. , 2008-10-31

That Sinking Feeling - 6:09 a.m. , 2008-10-28

Return Of The Karate Kid And His Slow Kitty-Lovin' Accomplice - 5:44 a.m. , 2008-10-22

Sign up for my Notify List and get email when I update!

email:
powered by
NotifyList.com

HEY YOU!
Click on the button below to order the book "Never Threaten To Eat Your Co-Workers: Best of Blogs" featuring Uncle Bob.
You WON'T be sorry.

DISCLAIMER


Read a random entry of mine.