It's a Dawg's Life

With all the rain we had, the yard is still full of mud. Which presents a dilemma:

1) Do you lock the dawg outside all day and risk him playing in the mud?

2) Do you lock the dawg inside all day and risk him going so stir-crazy that he tears the house apart?

3) Do you leave the dawggie door open and throw caution to the wind?

We opted for number three. I also took the dawg into the yard and firmly exclaimed, "Don't dig!" while waving my arm over expanse of our back yard. He seemed to understand.

Yesterday on the way home from work I got a call from the wife; "How far away from home are you?"

"About 5 minutes", I replied.

"Good. There's something you need to see." There was an edge to her voice . . .

I came home to this:

In his defence, I did not specifically point and say, "Do not dig up this plumeria plant". I suppose I should have been more specific.

Also in his defence, he did let the wife do this to him the other day:

Under that calm, patient, exterior he is probably thinking, "I am so going to dig something up in the yard after this . . . ". So I guess we are even.

The great thing about dawgs is you can't discipline them for something like this. They have no concept of "Earlier today while I was at work you did this bad thing . . ."

Try and discipline them when you get home and the only thing they understand is, "That's the guy who comes home and yells at me for no reason. Best to bite him when he comes home tomorrow . . ."

All you can do is laugh, grab the towels, and start wiping him down.

So there's that.