Tucker is my first dog. He is the sweetest, kindest, gentlest, funniest, most adorable dog I have ever met. That being said, he is bad. Really bad. (think Marley) And, I STINK at doing anything about it. He is so endearing, he is getting away with murder. Where do I begin? Come when called? Nope. Greets guests politely? Nope - exuberantly, yes, politely, no. Loose leash? Not even close and if he gets any bigger I will have to look into getting my shoulder reset. I used to have a lovely back yard, now - not so much. I think he is trying to reach China. And, don't get me started on the things he eats. My children and I have developed a conditioned response to the sound of an item dropping on the floor. In true Pavlovian spirit, we all launch ourselves from whatever we are doing the moment we hear the distinct "clink" and sprawl our bodies over the dropped item as if it were a hand grenade and we are the stars of a block buster action movie. Last night, he ate Hannah Montana. Well, not all of her, we still have her pony tail. He has shredded and consumed an entire quilt. He sleeps on the cold metal floor of his kennel because every time we give him a doggy bed, he eats it. We are currently enrolled in obedience school. They haven't asked us to leave yet. (Tonight will be our second class - keep us - and our class mates in your thoughts). But, regardless of all his dastardly deeds, we love him so unconditionally! Anybody else love a "bad doodle"?
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