They've gotten to the dog
|Does this look like the face of a Russian agent?|
It started with the occasional puddle on the floor. This is from a dog to came to us four years ago fully trained, and that was in fact a pre-requisite for his adoption. We are charitable people, but we don't allow other mammals to pee on us. He reliably did his business outside. But slowly, slowly we found the odd puddle in the house. OK fine, perhaps he was upset we had lives outside the house. Perhaps there was a storm that scared the pee out of him. Perhaps a belligerent chipmunk taunted him through the window. Perhaps he was losing bladder control in middle age.
We got him a dog door. It did save us from full-time door-man duties, which had grown onerous, as if we worked in a New York City high rise. Only full-time though. Although he reliably goes outside by himself, he returns to the other back door and yelps incessantly, hoping to be let in, despite NEVER EVER being let in. He stays there, yelping, until I walk over to the dog door and kick it. Then he's like, Oh right, that exists, like I do when I am out of paper towel and can't get some on Amazon in the next 20 minutes and remember that there are stores.
Also, the dog door did not solve the peeing issue. We would still return home to liquids that we hoped against hope were spilled kid fluids or some kind of leak but that was not any of those thing. No, Chilo was not using the dog door to pee outside while we were gone.
He was going outside in our absence though, which we discovered almost too late. Instead of relieving himself, he was digging under the gate. I didn't know he knew how to dig. I had never seen him dig, or exert himself in anyway. Shih Tzus are bred to lay around and look cute, not dig. They are the lingerie models of the dog world. I mean, they could break a nail. But he started digging. At first, I was confused by the dirt on his face and paws. I thought perhaps the ground was attacking my poor precious widdle dog. But then he started escaping. Neighbors started showing up with him. Some of them offered to raise him for us. They looked skeptical when I told them he never ever dug before now. They were judging my parenting. I had seen that look a few million times before.
Also, the dog door did not solve the waking us up in the middle of the night issue. Which was actually never an issue before. Usually, Chilo turns in about 9 pm and can be roused by nothing short of a battalion of rabid squirrels tunneling in through the heat vent. Now, however, he often needs to go outside around 1 am for unknown reasons, and he needs an escort to the dog door at that hour, even though he uses it independently at all other times of the day. So he wakes me up (never Kevin, proving that male privilege extends beyond the human species), and walks on my face until I get up and show him to the dog door. I am perplexed. Does he think he needs permission? Is he afraid of the night? Is he sleep walking? Or does he just hate me.
Why does he do ANY of this? This is a highly disturbing question that goes to the heart of my very existence as a reasonably sane individual. None of the explanations give one peace of mind. Either Chilo has gone insane from lead poisoning after chewing on the door jams of our house, the dog door shoots destructive laser beams into his brain every time he uses it, or...
He has been recruited by our adversaries.
They are attacking us from the inside.
They have turned the normal order of things on its head.
They have challenged our most cherished institutions.
They are threatening our security.
They are colluding with our fellow citizens.
Who are then driving us insane and peeing on stuff and keeping us awake at night.
I'm speaking of course about my children. Who may also be Russian. I have long thought that in fact.
Now that they no longer have the power to wage all out psychological warfare on me, because they are now old enough I can call them on their BS and sanction their wifi usage, and also communism has fallen, they have gotten to the dog.
And they are running him like a blackmailed Energizer bunny with a gambling addiction.
Help me, Bob Mueller, you are my only hope.