I don’t have a dog right now, but I sure do wish I had one. Everything I hear from my brother and mom about my brother’s dog, I’m rethinking the puppy thing. Two weeks, I almost adopted my brother’s dog’s cousin. Thank goodness that didn’t happen. I was on the phone with my parents the other day and my mom told me the latest Mason story.
So Mason turned one last week. Since then, he has eaten all the meatballs my mom made off the counter, cut his leg on barbwire, brought flees home and gave them to our other dog Jasmine, and tore my parent’s comforter apart and had feathers all over the house.
The wound from the barbwire got infected because the little stinker butt kept tearing off the bandage and licking it. Our vet bandaged it, but that didn’t stop Mason from tearing it apart. So she brought in the big guns… her husband is a large animal vet. So he decided to horse bandage it with the casting material so the dog couldn’t get it off. Mason also had to wear a cone of shame. If you know this dog, neither one of those settled well with him! Mason got so mad at the cone, he decided to be bad and made a bigger mess in the house.
My parents run a sand and gravel mine and so we have a sandbox the runs the whole length of our back yard… which is around 30 feet and is 10 feet wide. It’s every kid’s dream sandbox. Mason decided to get the sand bucket that was in the sandbox for my adopted sister. Mason proceeded to dig a hole and get sand into the buck. How a dog could manage to do this, I have no idea. He then proceeds to run through the house spilling sand everywhere. It’s not like my mom cleans up sand all the time after my dad and brother get home from work. My middle brother was walking upstairs and yells to my mom guess what the dog did… yep… he tracked sand all the way up the stairs into all the bedrooms.
SO… are all puppies like this? Or is Mason a Limited Edition like the rest of my family?
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