Mans best friend

They say a mans best friend is a dog. That is true in our world. Adam can whistle, snap, or call Jesse and shes at his heals. Me on the other hand-um, no. She plays alpha dog over me majorly. If I try to kennel her or bring her in from outside she rolls, runs, barks and is a complete brat. I usually come out looking like Edward Scissor hands did a number on my arms.

She's a teenager - still - and cant be left out unsupervised. Adam crashed on the living room floor last night and stumbled to bed. Around 2 am I thought someone was breaking into our house because of the raucous from the front room. I bravely stammered into the hallway only to find Jesse going berserk with freedom as Adam forgot to put her to bed. She peed, pooped, ate a box of corn pops - wrapper and all, ate Adams hat, dragged out every dirty towel from the basement landing, and pulled out and lain on every blanket she could find. I literally after chasing her for two minutes pinned her in the crook of the couch and ottoman with pillows to hastily place her in her kennel. I was super pleased to pick up her messes and become more awake by the minute. Only to come back to bed amidst a cough attack of Adams. The kids had the same thing the niche prior. Needless to say - this mama should not be recalling this and should be sleeping, however, I felt the need to jot down this gem of a memory!

She's wonderful to my children - she's lucky - and she's way adorable to look at. Sometimes it's a love hate relationship. I'm thinking doggy obedience? Any success stories?1