Labradoodle & Goldendoodle Forum
The other day I took the dogs to the park and when I got out of the car, I spotted a penny on the ground, heads up. Reciting the line, “Find a penny, pick it up, all day long, you’ll have good luck,” I bent over and retrieved the penny. I can now say, speaking from experience, that a lucky penny does not really hold all that much luck and any luck it gives you must run out pretty quickly.
I have been playing musical beds in my house again. With the colder temperatures, both dogs want to sleep in our bed. I am convinced the problem starts with which dog gets up on the bed first, but others say Vern is just too big. When Megan was home for the Holidays, she said more than once that Vern was too big for our space. What she didn’t seem to realize was Vern had fit just fine before two adults, one toddler, and two French Bulldogs showed up. She seemed to catch on, however, when I said, “Let’s take the total space and subtract it by one extremely messy grown daughter and her equally messy husband and two annoying French Bulldogs and that equals more room for all of us, including Vern.” Notice I kept my grandson out of the equation. And before anyone thinks I don’t love my grand dogs, I love them very much AT THEIR HOUSE.
Four dogs is two too many for me and I guess it is because they all follow me and look to me to have their needs met. At this point in my life, I am looking for less people/animals to depend on me, not more. If I went down to the basement to put the clothes from the washer into the dryer, I had four dogs following me and lining up at the back door to go out. I could ignore my own dogs, but the Frenchies have been known to make a statement in the house, something along the lines of “you should have taken me out when you had the chance,” and I don’t trust them entirely in our house. So, what should have been a quick trip up and down the steps turned into a thirty-minute ordeal for me, each and every time. When I mentioned that it was driving me nuts, the support in the room for my feelings was underwhelming, at best. I usually got some response that the dogs all loved me followed by laughter when I said, “whoopee!”
I spent the better part of the week rearranging four dogs on our bed while I watched TV and we finally had to put our foot down and say Jazz had to sleep elsewhere. Bonzai had the sense to find a space not occupied by two large Labradoodles on the bed, but Jazz had a little more trouble with the subtle clues Fudge was giving off that were telling him not to come any closer. Apparently, growling and the showing of teeth said to Jazz that Fudge wanted to cuddle with him. There are just some people/dogs you do not want to sleep with and Jazz is one of them. I once spent the night at my niece’s house and had her children fighting over who got to sleep with Aunt Laurie. I tried to tell them that I would be just fine on my own, but eventually my nephew won me and although we had an uneventful and dry night, I did find out later that he was a bed wetter. I am not telling him, but I am telling you, that this kind of information, disclosed up front, would have moved him right up to the top of the list of people/dogs who should sleep alone.
The other night I had an epiphany. It happened while I was fighting for a spot on our bed where I could stretch out while still remaining covered. I tried the conventional way first with my head near the headboard and then turned at one point so my feet faced the headboard. When I finally figured out it was a lost cause and more of me was hanging off the bed than on, my light bulb moment found me deciding to take myself to the guest bedroom. Usually, I think about having to wash more sheets, but my desperation caused me to throw caution to the wind and seek out a more restful place to sleep. It was heaven. The sheets were fresh and clean. All of my body was on the mattress and I could decide whether I needed the covers or not. No man or beast followed me to the new bed, which meant no snoring and sweet, sweet room on the bed. It was like that penny had changed my world and brought me just enough good luck to make a decision that benefited me in every way. If only my luck could have held out the next night.
On Tuesday night we had rain and extremely high winds. I have been waiting for the new season of This is Us to begin and was so excited that it was finally going to be on Tuesday night at 9. Every commercial stated it was at its new time…9:00 pm…and then I see the President was giving his farewell speech at 9 and had bumped my show to 10. In my perfect world the President would have his own channel, so he couldn’t ever pre-empt any show that I was watching. The only thing I was interested in hearing him say that night was, “stay tuned for This is Us.” Meanwhile, our power had gone out twice and I was so grateful that we had made the decision to get a generator when we moved into this house. I felt invincible…nothing…not the weather or the President was going to stop me from seeing my long awaited show. I even got a little cocky when the power went out and looked upward and said, “Ha Ha, I guess you forgot we got a generator!” I am like my mother when it comes to bad things happening that involve one of my shows. I automatically assume it is God having a little fun at my expense. Finally, my show started and it was everything I hoped it would be right up until our cable went out and our screen went blank. I thought the night couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong.
When our power went out, it set off our smoke alarm. Fudge isn’t scared of much, but she is very frightened of the noise the smoke alarm makes. The funny thing is Vern, who is scared of so many things, is not affected by the smoke alarm at all. Earlier in the week, John had started a fire in our fireplace and obviously did something incorrectly because he set off every smoke alarm in our house. Did I mention John is an Eagle Scout? Fudge and I had been in bed and between the smoke alarm and me screaming for John to do something, she was stressed to the max. When Fudge is stressed, she gloms on to me like a magnet. When I am stressed, I yell. So, in between me yelling, “JOHN, DO SOMETHING….JOHN, DO SOMETHING QUICKER!” and fearing any neighbors within hearing distance would think we were either having extremely loud sex or we needed help, I was as panicked as Fudge. Well, I now think Fudge has PTSAD (Post Traumatic Smoke Alarm Disorder) because when that alarm went off again last night, she all but sat on top of me and couldn’t get close enough to me. She shook, her walk turned into a slink of sorts, and if she walked any slower when I made her get down, she would have been going in reverse.
Well, with no show to watch and an extra needy dog in the bed, it wasn’t long before we turned off the lights and I realized, once again, that our bed was fast becoming the most uncomfortable place to be. So, I decided to take myself over to the guestroom, my newfound haven, for another good night of sleep. Unfortunately, Vern followed right behind me, with Fudge hot on his tail. My haven quickly turned into hell when Fudge curled up next to me with her paws facing my back. I don’t mind spooning with my dogs, but this felt more like forking, as in four forks were cutting into my back, and it wasn’t long before I decided to go back to my own bed and ditch the dogs. I am running out of options as to where to sleep because upon my return to my own bedroom, John started snoring, leaving me to ponder if a pillow over his face would be justifiable homicide. In the end, I chose the quieter bed filled with Doodle bodies and got through the night in one piece. It’s obvious now I expected too much from that one penny. For the kind of luck I need, I am hoping someday to find a whole roll of them, heads up.