I could write about coronavirus. A hot topic. The school closures, the crazy 24 hours we had. But I decided this one is a little better (we’ve all read and discussed COVID-19 enough!)
Alongside all this confusion, questions, ect. of our day (are we closing? Is my sons district closing? My husbands?) I get notification that my alarm is going off at home. Typically it is the garage door if it doesn’t get locked and the wind swings it open. No big deal, the garage is closed. Except this time it was the front door.
I checked our Ring doorbell (NOT AN AD: but seriously get one if you don’t have one) and there was a motion right before it went off but no one was there (this often happens, it is triggered by a passing car or something similar). I am rushing home: we have a tiny well loved dog at home. Luckily I live close by, but as I began to turn onto our street I was so worried of what I would find.
The door was wide open, and despite my husbands pretty firm request of “Don’t go in the house if the door is actually opened!” I ran inside. I closed the door behind me and called for the dog but nothing. Every swear word ran through my head. All of a sudden, I hear scratching at the door. I open it to find our favorite little dog had just let himself out to pee and came back to me. He was just as happy to see me, fumbling through the doorway as I opened it. I imagine he saw me running into the house and came after.
This is not a well-trained dog. We don’t trust him outside of the house without a leash (although even before today I have always thought we probably could). He just gets so distracted and we don’t feel like risking it. He rarely listens to me at this point, some nights my husband has to get him out from under the coffee table. He has learned that if he goes outside he will usually get a treat so he has taken to barely walking outside (if that) only to run back in to the pantry and start scratching for a treat. In addition he has the WORST breath (legit we’ve gotten him checked out for it several times it is so bad) and he has an odd habit of “poop pellets” where he leaves us the tiniest size poops unknowingly. He’s not model canine dog, but my god we (I) love him.
Even my husband, who loves him but will admit I am next level, said, “wow, he is such a good dog we are so lucky.” And we are. And for that, he got two handfuls of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios before I left to get back to work.