I just have to share a little story about what happened last night. You need to know that my miserable 97 year old grandfather now lives with us and that my miserable 10 year old Bull Terrier Frodo hates him more than he hates the neighbor's cat. Frodo has a collection of stuffed animals that he carries from room to room and bumps us with, so that we'll play his favorite game. It's called "Pull." Yes, it's as simple as it sounds. What can I say, he's a Bull Terrier not a Border Collie. Sometimes if Frodo is feeling diplomatic or especially sorry for something, usually a garbage bag tearing or theft of food incident, he will leave one of his stuffed animals as a peace offering.
Last night, Dad and I were watching "24" when Grandpa wandered through on his way to bed. He closed his bedroom door. After a minute, the door opened and Grandpa hurled out one of Frodo's giant brown bears. Then he closed the door and went back to bed. We started laughing. Of course this was terribly inappropriate since several people had just died horribly during the episode of "24" we were watching. Somehow it made us laugh even harder.
Sometimes I wonder about our family, I really do.
Another time, my cousin James stopped by just as I was letting Frodo out to do his business and we ended up taking Frodo for a walk around the block. Unfortunately I had forgotten to bring bags for collecting Frodo's poop. I hoped he wouldn't need to poop but he started giving off signs like he was about to hunker down and I shouted at him, "NO! No pooping!" He was determined though, so I forced him to hold it until we got over a sewer grate and I shouted, "Poop now! Poop now!" Frodo obliged, sending his little nuggets splashing into the storm sewer below.
For the next year, every time we walked over a sewer grate, Frodo had to stop and try to poop. After ten years we still can't train him to not bark when someone comes in the house, but after one incident, he was sewer trained. Go figure.
I can't wait 'till I have kids.
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