I knew in my gut it was going to happen…eventually. But I wasn’t expecting that day to be today. Although, as I think about it now, I guess you never think “today is gonna be the day” because down deep…even though you know it’s just a matter of time…a part of you still hopes it doesn’t happen.ever.
We have the dining room set up so that the dogs are contained when we leave. We’re able to close the pantry door that leads to the kitchen, and we put up a temporary baby gate to close off the other access to the kitchen…and the rest of the house.
With the dog door in the back door, the pups are free to come in and out as they need. Free to play on the deck or in the ever so tiny yard. Free to potty whenever their little bowels move.
Here’s the problem, though. Solomon hates to be cold…or to be wet…or to stand in snow. He’s quite the little prince.
The first day we brought him home, he figured out how to go in and out the dog door. So it’s not that he can’t do it. It’s that he doesn’t want to do it. Because on the other side of that door is a cold, wet, sometimes snow covered deck. And the little prince shan’t be cold.
This was the primary reason I wanted to wait on getting a puppy. The thought of potty training in the winter…ugh!…I knew it would be a special kind of challenge. And not just for the puppy but for me too. I don’t want to stand out in the cold either!
So from day one I was trying to fast track the training. I might as well have put it in park. The faster I wanted to break him, the more accidents we seemed to have.
Thing is, I know he knows where he’s supposed to go. And I know he knows he’s supposed to do both #1 and #2 outside. He’s got the peeing down when we’re home because he comes running in for a treat. Much like Sheba, we started using treats as a last resort.
Problem with Solomon is that right after he pisses, he runs in to get a treat. We give him one because he peed outside…and then he walks around the corner and shits on the floor. No joke.
So the other day after giving him a treat for peeing outside, I told him if he pooped outside too I’d give him another treat. He needed to do both. I’m not even making this up…he walked to the door…scratched at it…I opened it and he proceeded to poop outside. Then he ran back inside and sat where I keep the treats for his reward. Right.
Again, confirmation that this little bastard is smart…but lazy.
Because we “lock up” the dogs in the dining room when we leave, I dreaded the day when I’d come home to find shit everywhere. I could just imagine it. Well that day was today.
As I walked in the door from teaching my corporate yoga class I immediately knew something bad had happened. I could smell the shit. I couldn’t see it yet but I knew it was there…and it smelled like a lot. Then I saw it.
First the subtle paw print here and there…ok, so he’d stepped in it and taken a few steps. That’s not the end of the world. But the smell signaled more than a few shit prints. I rounded the corner and saw the first pile of poop. I looked toward the dog door and saw the second…on the rug (damn it…there goes another rug!)…and all over the floor…and on the wall.
It was a large soft pile and Solomon had stepped in it…slide…and probably took off running. I walked back into the dining room for a closer look and noticed little shit splatters on the chair legs. WTF had happened here?!? It looked like a shit crime scene. The aftermath took me nearly 30 minutes to clean up…and there’s a part of me that’s wonders if I should clean again…maybe tomorrow.
After the clean up, Solomon and I had a long talk. I’ve had it. He’s getting old enough to know better. He’s certainly smart enough to know better. And if he doesn’t figure it out…well…there’s going to be more than shit everywhere….
He’s lucky he’s so damn cute!
PS: I totally see the irony in writing about dog shit…everywhere…the day after yesterday’s blog. Morale of the story: There really is shit everywhere…and I mean everywhere.