It’s a Dog’s Life
Its dog’s life was an unsuccessful movie originally made in the fifties. It’s also what my bad dog Logan lives each day. What’s that you say, there are no bad dogs, only wretched terrible owners like me? Bingo! His adopted brother Albert is older and slowing down so Logan thinks up and creates most of the mischief around here.
Yesterday he got both my wife and I. I had given a pig ear to each dog. Albert brought his over to his sleeping donut, plopped himself down inside and devoured it. Logan grabbed his and somehow got it outside in the back yard. Later I was out there looking at something when I came across something terrible and gross in the grass. It was too horrible to describe but looked like something a very sick dog might produce. Then I took a second glance and it was the pig ear. I picked it up with a small shudder and brought it inside. Later that evening as my wife was letting the dogs out the deck door she howls, “Oh No. Oh no. This is horrible.” I know that voice and do my best to ignore it hoping she will find the strength and intestinal fortitude to just go grab some carpet cleaner and handle whatever horrible thing she has just discovered. She’s had four kids and been a carpet cleaner’s wife for thirty five years so she ought to know how to spot clean a rug eh?
A good man would have jumped up like someone kicked him and raced to save his wife from whatever a desperately sick dog couldn’t help himself and left on the rug. That’s what a good man would have done so of course I hid in my office pretending I hadn’t heard her. It turns out it was just the pig ear again in the dim evening light. Funny how God can use little things like that to show us just how wretched we are and completely in need of his grace and forgiveness each day.
As a carpet cleaner I clean up other people’s doggie accidents all day long. The last thing I want to see when I get home is my dog has left me a present.
Once I found such a present sitting on my oriental rug in the family room. My daughter cautioned me, “You can’t punish them daddy because you don’t know which one did it.” She’s in her mid twenties and still calls me daddy. Do you want some money or a car sweetheart? What ever you need dear.
I had an insight so I told her, “Watch this.” I picked up the poo and stuck it under Albert the Good’s nose. He waggled his nose, looked at me and said, ”No thank you master.” I brought it over to Logan the bad. His ears shot straight up and he ran like the devil was after him for back rent. It turns out you can tell which one did it if you just take a moment to figure things out. It was so funny we gave Logan a pass on the punishment. He might have been trying to tell me he had to go out and maybe I missed his signal. Maybe.
Logie is a rescue up from Texas. I always wanted a black Lakeland terrier but unless you fly to Scandinavian they are hard to come by. I lamented, “God I am never going to get a black Lakie unless you send me one.” A short time later a Lakeland Rescue organization in Texas called us saying Logie’s master had a stroke and did I want him flown up? Turns out me and the kids had saved up enough change to pay for the flight with enough for a pizza left over. So we paid for the dog and got extra pepperoni. After spending time with Logan I think I know how his former master got that stroke.
Turns out you need to be careful how you pray. Logan is a little schizoid doggie. He walks around growling at nothing. He barks then leaps back when he hears himself bark. He is more stubborn than our old wire fox terrier and that’s saying something but he is affectionate. He will hop up on the couch to watch X-Files with Daddy or snuggle on mama’s lap and genuinely wants to spend time with us—if he’s in the mood.
If he’s not he will sit in the middle of the sectional curled up and ignore you. Unless of course you have something delicious. Especially popcorn. He would kill for popcorn.
I’m sharing this with you today because maybe you’ve got your own Logi or Albert at home. Sometimes even the best of doggies has a bad day and someone needs to clean that up over there because your mother in law is coming over this weekend. If that’s the case call us and we’ll come over and put it all right. 630 932 8004
Sweet and lovable, stubborn and schizoid. We love our dogs. We can help love your carpets when your dog doesn’t love them. Now if you’ll excuse me. Logi is growling. It either means he has to go out or it means he is seeing smirking cats in a parallel universe. I’m not sure which. Till next time I think Justin Bieber advised us to, “Stay Frosty.” I love the Beebs.