Accident Number Two - Literally, and figuratively

Tonight was another milestone.

After teaching my aerobics class, I went to WalMart to get some stuff to make banana breads for Valentine's Day (is that traditional? ANSWER: yes, if you have black bananas on your countertop on Feb 13th). While I was at WalMart, I of course cruised the dog squeak toy aisle, squeak toys will henceforth be known as 'babies' (this will be another topic soon). On Aisle number Dog food (they don't really have numbered aisles at my Walmart), I found a delightful bunny baby with a squeaker in its tummy who wanted to come home with me. $3.97 by the way, cheaper than Petco.

Upon arrival home I decided to gift the new baby to Dolly instead of Sonny, poor thing Dolly has been SOOO neglected (read that: I guilted myself that I have given all the new babies to Sonny and all she got was that lousy t-shirt). She was delighted to be presented with it and wagged her tail appreciatively for about 4 minutes until I gave her a rawhide chewy and she was even happier and that baby was a thing of the past. I had chased Sonny off her baby for those 4 minutes and he was miffed, those things are mine he must be thinking. At the same time Doll got her chewy I also gave one to Sonny. As soon as Son realized that the baby was open and Dolly was otherwise occupied, his own chewy was fogotten and he scarfed the new baby to his lair, where I find him.

He is in heaven, he has the bunny baby in his kennel and he is in LOVE! I brought him his chewy to finish off while he is preening the new conquest, and he is in heaven twofold.

I proceed to preparing newly traditional banana breads, muffins and mini-muffins for Friends and Lovers.

Some minutes go by and I have to go to the living room to check on what's on t.v. Here is where I discover, that previous to himself attaining the baby trophy, he was mighty p-o'd that Dolly got the baby first and he did not, and he let me know it.... in two different spots.

PEE-YU-EE. Some time between Dolly getting the baby and not him, and me turning my back to make banana bread, Sonny has pooped in the living room and his displeasure is rare, apparent, odiferous and malodious. (I know,TMI, but that's the story, and if you want to know WHY I knew it was him and not Dolly, email me for the answer, : lscholz@mccarthy.com) (hint: the answer is not pretty). He has been scolded and turned out into the backyard and right now he is in his kennel timing himself out, he knows what he did, you can see 'MY BAD' in his eyes...

My bets are that he will never do it again , please reference 'Appropriately Repentant' and 'Bad Decision', he just plain does not want you to be mad at him. Ever.

I have just come from the kitchen after debatching the first batch of mini muffins, I heard his click click toes follow me in, looking for forgiveness. I tell him, I expect you to have accidents, you're only a puppy, but yo-yo Mister, don't let it happen again. He recieves his piece of muffin top and says three Hail Mary's.

He is forgiven.

My name is no-no bad dog, what's yours?