Piper the Pisser...

"Man, it's like she is doing this to mess with us." I say with a sigh of depression.

House training a dog is not an easy task. Jamie and I have recently adopted a dog named Piper. She is 9 months old, weighs 6 pounds and her previous owner through her out of a moving car which left her with a broken jaw that she will more than likely never be able to close. Relax, she can eat and drink, everyone calm down, that is usually the first question we get. She kind of uses her tongue to flick water and food pellets into her mouth leaving our kitchen floor a drool ridden, gooey danger zone. This only adds to her adorable-ness (think I just made that word up) needless to say we have done our fair share of coddling, hugging, and saying ridiculous things you would say to a baby in a high pitch voice. Piper is well taken care of. The cuteness is wearing off now though. 

Piper is alone longer during the day when Jamie and I are both at work and no accidents. None. Completely fine. For whatever reason she can't last the 7-8 hours we try and sleep. We walk here right before we go to bed, take away her water to try to get all the pee out of her so we can sleep. It's like fucking clock-work. Every morning there is bound to be a shot glass spill worth of Piper piss on the floor somewhere. Rub her nose in it? Check. Crate her? Check. Use stern voice? Check. And finally my fucking favorite...Puppy Pads? Check...and she laughs at them. These things are the biggest snake oil, joke-waste of money I have ever seen. I swear she pee's around them to mess with us. Perfectly around them.

When we first moved in at our Santa Monica abode we didn't think the concrete floors would be very homey or welcoming. Now they are a damn godsend. If we had carpets this place would smell absolutely awful. How? How is the damn world do you train a puppy? I did it once before with Scoob (my 17 year old dog living with my father in Pennsylvania). Why can't I get this dog trained?! Anyone? Bueller?

Piper...

"What the hell happened to her mouth?" was all I could say as I saw the four pound, squirrel-like, fur-ball sitting at my feet. Her tongue hanging out of her cocked head staring up at me...

Jamie and I had a rare lazy Sunday off together. Our weekly work schedules never match up so we wanted to make sure we got the most out of the day. Flea Market? Brunch? Beers? Early dinner in and an old movie? It was all on the agenda.

A cloudless sunny morning set the tone for our day and we wanted to make sure we got the most out of it. Luckily for me the local pet adoption was having an open house in a parking lot on Main Street that we had to check out...according to Jamie. Bastards. It's like they had it planned and knew we were coming. We ambled through the vacant lot of misfit animals and their misfit volunteers holding their leashes. I turned my back for a second to stare at a three legged-pit bull and Jamie was gone. I was hoping she was on the other side of the fence ready for brunch but I could not have been more wrong. I almost tripped over her. She was coiled into a ball on the oil stained parking lot asphalt clinging and cottling something furry.

"This ones got a real sad story. She needs a good home. She was thrown from a car when she was a puppy and someone found her on the side of the road. Her jaw was broken and may never close." Pausing for dramatic effect, tisking and shaking her head. She knew what she was doing. She was good. Damn it. "And needs a good home." Said the overweight college drop out peering over her black rimmed hipster glasses "But she is such a cutie!" Jamie looked up from the ground to her with an enthusiastic "Yes! She does need a good home!" She turned and stared at me as I tried talking down off the pet adoption ledge but I knew I was screwed. "IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE!" was all I kept hearing muffled over kissing noises "Matt, we need her." And thats when I knew I was totally screwed. I manage to talk Jamie into leaving the parking lot...not after she gathered all the pamphlets and information she would need to surely adopt this animal...with or without discussing it with me.

A few days had gone by. We were back to our work week. No dog. "Yes!" having a conversation with myself walking from the driveway one night "Maybe she forgot about it." As I pushed the door open I couldn't have been more wrong...again. "Matt, don't be mad. She needed a good home..."

YourFriendMatt