Penelope...

Don’t let her adorable demeanor fool you. She is a nightmare.

Recently I came home to this 2 pound fluff ball staring at me. Yes, seriously, 2 pounds. She is the size of a Beanie Baby. I had a feeling we were getting another dog, and I was right. Jamie had been dropping hints and sending me puppy photos. I guess I should have paid more attention. After opening up a Instagram “name our dog” post, we decided to name this new addition, Penelope. For the first few days she was docile and we didn’t even know if she could bark. That quickly wore off and now she is proficient in jumping from our couch to our bed to the floor repeatedly until she passes out…but only for a minute or two and then its back racing in circles like the Indy 500 around our place. Did I mention she found her bark and let’s us know exactly where she is at every moment?

We are on full puppy training mode and I forgot how exhausting it can be. We have our other dog, Piper, effectively trained. She knows our sleep schedule and that barking will not be tolerated when the sun goes down. She has stopped begging at the table when we eat and understand that all poop belongs outside. Penelope on the other hand, is a shit machine doesn't understand, yet, that we need her to do that outside.

-YourFriendMatt

I Got Stuck...Part Three...

“Excuse me, your dog is sleeping on my carry on bag.” She said with a smile on her face. We both turned to random, blonde, LA woman like the little girl from The Exorcist and she shut the hell up.

We had been in the airport for 11 hours. We had slept at LAX on a cold, marble floor. Our bodies hurt. Our eyes red and felt as if they were going to explode from exhaustion. Our hair was greasy and stuck up in every direction, we looked awful, disheveled and smelly. We had missed 3 flights in a row due to cancellations, and now being stuck in the airport was cutting into our vacation time. Not cool.

We had our dog, Piper, with us which added an additional layer of stress. It is one thing worrying about ourselves, but now Piper’s Benadryl was wearing off and she was running amuck. Piper is an 8 pound, brown and blonde haired, scrappy asshole of a dog. I love her. She gets into everything, likes to eat trash and make bed-nest out of whatever is around that you don’t want her making a bed-nest out of…such as other people carry on bags, jackets and neck pillows. She collects them, takes them under whatever piece of furniture she can find and makes a nest. In our current situation, she found a bench in our terminal and was happily making her bed. We didn’t care, we were too tired.

The next flight was boarding and we were waiting to see if we could make it on. Piper, who was now licking some little kids face and barking at things, had to be put back into her travel carry bag just in case we made it on the flight. This is always a scene because she fights like hell against Jamie and I as one of us holds open the bag and one tries to shove her in. “Oh, she’s fine, this is completely normal!” Jamie yells to disturbed onlookers over Piper’s screaming barks, and waves them off with a smile. “Going to Philadelphia? I like your shirt!” Jamie adds for good will.

“Okay, if only one of us gets on you go first and just take all this shit with you.”We discussed as I point to all our bags. “That way everything will just be in Philly when I get there and I will only have to worry about walking on a plane, you will have tons of help at the airport when you land.” Both of our families were anxiously waiting for us on the other side of the US in Philadelphia for our arrival. She would have plenty of help to carry all the bags and Piper. 

The plane boarded and was about to take off. We did not get on. This was the fourth flight in a row that we were not able to get on. The gate door to the plane was closing, solidify the defeating feeling in my gut that we were still stuck in LAX. Just as it was about to shut the gate agent busted through the door. “We have ONE SEAT AVAILABLE, which of you wants to go! Now!” We had our plan and I helped Jamie gather our things and got her on the plane. I watched it take off. Scared for her, but a little relieved that one of us was going home. Now it is time to get my ass on a plane.

The adventure in LAX continues…

-YourFriendMatt

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?