I Can’t Make This Up: Stories from a Dog Mom, Part 1


As a fur parent to two small dogs, sometimes I feel like I’m in a room full of toddlers. And I’ve actually been in a room full of toddlers, so I know what it’s like. Never again, y’all. Never. Again. Nubi was 6 when he adopted me as his Mommy, so he’d already been through his destructive phase. Scooby, on the other hand, had zero training, wasn’t even a year old, and was definitely in his terrible twos (which were closely followed by his rebellious puppy teenage months). These two keep me hopping on a daily basis. When I post on my personal Facebook, all of my friends love reading the “puppy mom” stories. They love hearing about their antics. And, y’all, these are the honest to gosh truth. I really can’t make this mess up.


“Give it back!!”

The Day Scooby Redecorated the Kitchen
I’m not sure what convinced me this was a good idea, but for Father’s Day I thought it would be cute to make cards with puppy paw prints on them. So I got out the acrylic paint, a paint brush, and some baby wipes, and kept a sink full of soapy water at the ready. They turned out to be absolutely adorable. Nubi wasn’t having any of it, so I barely got him to do more than one color. Scooby thought it was the coolest thing ever. After the cards were made, I cleaned up the pups and our mess and set the cards to dry. I stepped outside for a few minutes and when I walked in Scooby was peeking through the kitchen doorway waggling his tail furiously. And then I saw it. He was green. And orange. And red. Oh….no. You didn’t. Scooby had apparently decided that he wasn’t done with arts and crafts time and dug the paint plate back out of the trash. There were puppy paw prints all over the floor, on the refrigerator, on the cabinets, on the oven…and he’s sitting in the the middle of it looking proud like he was Picasso. I was speechless. It took over an hour to bathe him and clean the kitchen. I had to break the surprise to Mr. Cozy Cottage, who thought it was hilarious and continued laughing about it for a week. The upside to all of this is that it inspired the decor in my kitchen. The theme is “cheerful”. The curtains are white with teal, lime, orange, yellow, and red medallions, and the rest of the decor accents one of those colors. What can I say? The dog has incredible taste.


It’s impossible to be furious at this face.

The Day it Snowed Inside
I think talking to a brick wall is sometimes easier than dealing with Scooby. At least the wall doesn’t argue. I can usually tell what kind of day it’s going to be by how he wakes up. And this particular morning he was cranky. By mid-afternoon he still hadn’t fallen asleep and had started to act out. I had just arranged all the pillows on our living room futon and noticed one of them had a hole. I just sort of hid the hole until a later time when I could stitch it up. After I cleaned the bathroom, I came back out to “snow” all over my living room, with Scooby in the middle of it, tongue hanging out, tail wagging. I was done. He’d already been into so much that day. I picked up the fluff, shoved it back in the pillow, told him he was not a good boy, and went to do the dishes. Scooby wasn’t happy I had destroyed his work and had the worst attitude possible. I walked out of the kitchen drying my hands and I saw Scooby standing on the futon, glaring at me. He was dangerously close to that pillow, and the fear of my freshly cleaned living room being “fluffed” paralyzed me. “Don’t you dare!” He took a step closer to the pillow. “I mean it, Scooby. Don’t you even think about out.” He put a paw on the pillow and looked at me. I swear he was saying, Do what, Mom? I wouldn’t do anything. “Scooby, I’m serious!! Do. Not. Do. It.” Again, I swear he cocked an eyebrow at me and said, Do what? This? And he proceeded to shove his head into the hole and pull out a big wad of fluff…repeatedly. He then grabbed the poor pillow and shook it until the fluff flew ALL. OVER. I honestly can’t remember what his punishment was for that. I was too busy simultaneously being angry and trying not to laugh.


“Uh, hi, Mom. I put all my toys in a pile in the middle of the floor for you!”

I Can’t Even
See the above story? Imagine a story like that and add, like, 6 more like it. That about makes up the day that lead to this story. I’d had it. I was done. Thankfully, we were going out to karaoke that night, because I really could have used a shot of whiskey and some time being a grown up. But I was exhausted from the day and we ended up leaving before karaoke was even over. I walked through the door and was greeted by a Scooby who looked like he’d done something wrong. Even poor Nubi knew the fate of Scooby, and was sitting on the couch with a look that said, I told him not to, Mom. My motorcycle helmet lay on the floor. Around it were pieces of the padding on the inside. I picked it up. The lining was gone. The foam was ripped to pieces. Mr. Cozy Cottage and our housemate stood behind me, jaws gaping, looking at me wondering what I was going to do. Before the complete and utter rage had a chance to take over, I simply dropped the helmet, put my hands up in the air and went to bed. I was done. The men cleaned up the mess, and I’m not sure exactly how Scooby was punished that night. But the next day he was sweet as sugar trying to make up for his wrongdoing.

Scooby Decides What He Wants to be When He Grows Up
Most of our TV watching happens in the evenings. After a 12-hour day, Mr. Cozy Cottage just wants to be a couch potato. We all have our favorites, even the dogs. I love crime documentaries and Dr. Quinn. Nubi loves cartoons. Mr. Cozy Cottage and Scooby love nature documentaries. Since it was his turn to choose, he picked a beautiful show on the Alaskan wilderness. One segment was on wolves, and the first howl made Scooby stop his endless game of fetch. He sat on the edge of Mr. Cozy Cottage’s lap, glued to the TV screen. He watched them hunt and wagged his tail when they howled. For the next two weeks, he placed a toy at one end of the room and then proceeded to stalk it. He also tried his best to howl. He was in love with wolves and tried to mimic everything he saw them do. His next career option was a bear. After the wolf experience, he watched another show with a big grizzly who reared up growling. He thought that was awesome, so now he attacks his toys by rearing up on his hind legs and doing his own version of a bear growl. We still haven’t had the heart to tell him he’ll never be either of those, but he tries so hard to this day that we think if there was a chance for a simple river-mutt dog to become a wolf or a bear, he will be the one to do it.


I even made him a reversible coat with one side red and one side a print with wolves. He has never worn it red side out, and he thinks it makes him “wolfier.”

Nubi has Champagne Taste
This one actually took place before I came into the picture, but it’s one of my favorites. I figured it was time to stop picking on Scooby so much. Mr. Cozy Cottage is a big, burly biker. Seeing how much he spoils a tiny Chihuahua is a contradiction to his looks and attitude, but I find it endearing. He got Nubi when he was just a puppy and fell in love. His job as a tattoo artist deals mainly in cash, and he doesn’t trust banks (can you blame him, really?) so that’s how he pays the bills as well. He took a shower before he left for work, and when he walked back into the bedroom, the rent money ($600) was in pieces all over the floor. Nubi had snatched it off of the nightstand and eaten it all. There was almost nothing left. Needless to say he was furious! He fussed at him and cleaned up the mess and left for work. A few hours later, he felt bad for yelling at him and called his mother to go over and check on him. She said he was laying there pouting. That’s not the only time he ate something of Daddy’s…



Mr. Cozy Cottage Runs Out of Jeans
Shirts get dirty. Socks get dirty. Jeans…they never get dirty. We are both in the same boat when it comes to this. Unless you’ve spilled something on them that can stain, you can wear jeans for a week before grabbing a new pair. Well, that is unless someone destroys them. Evidently, Mr. Cozy Cottage must have spilled something delicious-smelling on his jeans the day before, because when he got out of the shower he discovered Nubi had eaten them. Not the whole pair of jeans…just a large gaping hole in the legs and crotch. Thankful that it wasn’t money again, he was only mildly upset and grabbed another pair of pants before heading off to work. At least Nubi paid him back for them. That year for Christmas, he opened a new pair of jean with a note from Nubi (who had help from Grandma) that said, “Sorry I ate your pants! Love, Nubi”.


That face….

Scooby Becomes a Chef
Nubi only cares about eating food. Rarely does he come in the kitchen to “help” me prepare it. He leaves that particular job to Scooby. So if you ask the younger of my fur-kids, he’s already a master chef. He knows that rice is cooked in the steamin’ thing (pressure cooker), to back up when that oven thing is open (it burns your nose), and that sometimes Mommy is careless when she’s chopping, peeling, or mixing. He loves to watch me mix ingredients together, and perhaps that’s why he got it in his head to try it for himself. We’d just introduced them both to bones, and he had this little piece (larger than choking hazard size) that he’d been working on while laying on my lap. I was currently taking a break and enjoying a hot cup of coffee and reading. Suddenly, he stands up, looks at my coffee cup that is perched in between my thighs (I wasn’t near a table), looks at his bone, and then, with intent, picks up the bone and plops it in my coffee. He then proceeds to stare at me with his head cocked to one side saying, Try it, Mama. I couldn’t not laugh, and I actually got pictures of this one.


“Try it, Mama!”

There are many more stories to entertain you, but that will be for a later blog post. Please tell me I’m not the only one with these stories. If you have stories, please feel free to share in the comments!!


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