Apr
12

From Meatballs to Marinara

By

I’ve come to a decision. If you’ve been reading the blog for a while, you already know about the newest addition to our family, Rex. If not, please, please go and read the post titled “Meatballs.”
Rex has been great so far. It was pretty easy to house train him. He was great about spending time in his crate at night and when we weren’t home. He’s great with the kids. He helps me put them to bed, cuddles, and licks their faces in the morning to wake them. When we did finally decide to give him some freedom around the house, we did pretty well.

I had planned on getting him neutered. I had the appointment all set for a day in January. The day after I told Tony about the appointment, he asked “Are you really sure you want to do that to him?” I told him that I never really thought about it, that’s just what you do, right?

He pled his case. He had some good points. He wasn’t aggressive. He wasn’t humping everything (well, except for his ‘girlfriend.’ But that was ok.). He also wasn’t “marking his territory.” So, I conceded. He made some good points. Also, it would save us three hundred bucks. It also occurred to me that winter might not be the best season for Rex to wear the cone of shame.

When I called to cancel the appointment, the vet tech asked me why I was cancelling. I told him the whole story. He said that he could give me a long list of reasons why I should get him neutered. He also made some good points. Especially the one a out how all that bad behavior could start by the time he turned one. Insaud that I may call and reschedule when the weather broke, and after I worked on the hubby.

About three weeks ago, I saw thar Rex had an accident in my home office. I cleaned it, yelled at him, and went about my day. The next day, there was another small spot. And the next day…well, you get the idea.

After trying lots if things to change his behavior, I finally hit my limit this weekend. I found some instructions online on how to clean the carpet well, and also get the smell out so he might not mark. After I took the time (lots) and effort (even more) to clean it, I found another little (fresh) spot.

After I calmed down and caught my breath (because I screamed a stream of obscenities) I put “call the vet” on my to do list. I DO feel bad though. I mean, trying to get Rex not to mark his territory would be like telling a 14 year old boy he couldn’t masturbate. He might try not to, but he would JUST HAVE TO DO IT!!!!!!!!

So, next Tuesday the meatballs will be gone. Farewell, meatballs. Farewell.

P.S. Please pardon any typos. I posted this from my iPhone :)

Categories : life

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