If Dogs Could Talk...

Sadie would owe money to the Cuss Jar.

You can tell by the look on her face she was not having a good time. 

"Dad, please take this thing off of me."

Three Things - Sadie

I can't leave her out.

1. She is now 10 years old and going strong. We've had to start giving her vitamins for bones and joints. In her mind I still think she wonders when these two boy children will be leaving since she was here first.

2. Picture the size of a little paperback book. Picture that book with a leather cover and strap that ties around it to keep it closed. That would be Kevin's journal. Sadie ate the entire leather cover and strap last week. Not one single crumb left anywhere in the house. You can just imagine how that came out. Both ends. That's all I'm gonna say in case any of you are eating while reading this.

3. She has decided in her old age that the consequence is worth the risk. If there's food on the counter or food in Luke's hand, she'll try to grab it even though she knows she will get in trouble for it. Doesn't matter. We now have to put her on her leash and attach it to the stairs during meal prep and eating times. She's not exactly setting the best example for the boys. How do I know? After tell her several times, "Get down, Sadie" while I was trying to get Luke a snack, Luke looked at her and said, "Wisten and obey, Babie."

So I Guess You Can Teach An Old Dog New Tricks

Sadie is our nine year old beagle. She was here B.C. (before children). I grew up with dogs, but they were always outside dogs. Never allowed in the house.

After we'd been married a few years (and in the midst of infertility stuff) I told Kevin I thought it would be ok to get a dog. He says it was all my idea. He had a beagle growing up named Fancy. From what little research I did, I learned that beagles were good with children, generally had a good disposition and didn't grow very large. I mistakenly thought that they really wouldn't shed that much because they are short haired dogs. Boy was I wrong about that! She sheds a TON! (I'll have to post a video of our new Furminator hair brush we got for her - really works great.)


Sadie started her life with us sleeping in a crate at night. But then we moved to Tallahassee into an apartment. An apartment with paper thin walls and college students who were up all hours of the night and slept late in the morning. She would start whining at 4 am. I was afraid the college neighbors would hear her and further punish us by playing music even longer and louder than they already did. Ipods weren't popular just yet. So one of us who will remain nameless started letting her get into the bed with us at 4 am just so she would be quiet and we could sleep a few more hours.

Did you know dogs have no concept of time? Midnight is the same as 4 am which is the same as 7 pm to them. So as you can imagine, 4 am became 1 am which became 9 pm and a bad habit was born.

For almost 8 years Sadie has been sleeping in the bed with us (gasp!). Dog hair in the sheets. Paws in the face at midnight - her way of telling us to lift the covers so she can burrow down to the bottom of the bed. Sharing pillows. I tolerated it because I can't stand being awakened in early morning when it is not time to get up. Kevin liked it mostly because her middle of the night movements didn't wake him up. And she's like a mini-heater on cold nights in the winter. I can honestly say that I never thought in a million years that I would have a dog sleeping in the bed with me. Kids in the bed? No way. Dogs? Sure. What is wrong with that picture??

But all that changed when she decided to pee in the bed a few months ago. There are few things worse than getting into bed at 10 pm worn out from a busy day only to stick ones feet in a cold wet puddle under the down comforter. On my side of the bed. Strip the bed, wash everything, sleep upstairs. We'll call this an "accident" since she is getting older. I buy something called Nature's Miracle at the pet store to spray on the bed to get rid of the smell. Two weeks later? Same song, second verse. Again on my side.

Kevin said, "That's it. No more." And he was serious. It took a few nights of her sleeping in the garage in her crate howling all night long. Then she came back in the room in a new, fancy dog bed but anytime she whined, she got sent back to the garage. The proverbial light bulb finally went off and now she sleeps in her bed.

I haven't slept this good in 8 years!

Now if I can figure out a way to keep her off the sofa...