Ventarama

I love Rosie, I really do. I love Mike, I really do.

Growing up, we had a dog that loved to run. He'd take any chance he could get to get out of my parents' fence or off his chain (before we had the fence- and no, he didn't spend all day on his chain), and he'd just run. He loved to feel the wind in his hair, to meet other dogs, to 'see the world' (or at least our town). I remember having to chase him and look for him in all sorts of weather- freezing cold, rain, boiling heat. Ugh- not fun. I told myself that as much as I loved Arly, I didn't want a runner when I grew up and got a dog.

What did we get? Rosie the Runner. I adore her- she's really cute and playful and generally a good dog. But- damn. I hate chasing her when she gets out. Last night, I told him to be careful to not let Rosie out of the fence. He claimed that she didn't get out with him there- she 'knew' that she couldn't do that. Guess what she did.

She got out. She didn't get far, Mike bent down and picked her up and handed her to me, but I still laughed at him. This morning- he claimed that he didn't know that she was in the fence and accidentally let her out- again. This time, he wasn't able to grab her and she ran. What did he do? He came back inside and told me that I had to go get her.

I grabbed a treat and her leash and went looking, while Mike got into his car to go to work. I'm walking, asking Rosie if she wants a treat, and she keeps looking at me and running away. I turn around to go grab her leash and the kids and put them in the stroller, because Mike is leaving and I'm not about to leave the kids home alone while I'm out chasing after the dog. He stops, gets out, crouches down, and says 'come here Rosie' and she comes to him.

If it was going to be so freaking easy for him in the first place, then why the hell couldn't he have done that when she got out? Oh- and to make matters worse, he scolds her! NO! You don't do that! Then she'll figure out 'I got out, I'm going to get in trouble, I'm not going to him'. UGH!

My house is a disaster- but it looks like rain today, so I'm probably going to be able to actually get something done. To look at my house, you wouldn't believe that two days ago, it was clean!

Last night, I learned something new about Rosie. She's a wimp about storms. We got the tail end of a really nasty storm last night. We had the thunder and lightening, and some of the wind. I was sitting on the couch, watching Survivor and CSI (recorded). When it would thunder, Rosie would lift her head and look at me- making sure that I was still there, I think. Then she'd go back to sleep. When there was on particularly loud clap of thunder- I found myself with a 20 ball of furry energy in my lap. Rosie had jumped up and ran for me- and when she figured out that it wasn't happening again, she climbed up on the back of the couch, and cuddled up against my neck. I laughed at her- apparently, she didn't want to seem like a wimp, but she also didn't want to go far from me.

And now I get to go clean my living room. *Joys*