Dew Drops in Diapers

Daisy Dew Drop has become “a woman,” and we’re learning so much about her.

For example, when we bought a baby gate, we learned she can climb.
When we tried to pen her behind the five foot high counter, we learned she can jump that high.

Then, we learned that diapers for an 8-14 pound baby are too small for an 8-14 pound dog.

Then we learned that it is very difficult to put a diaper on a squirming body, and that once it’s on, she can grab the tabs and pull it off in less than two seconds.

We learned that it’s easier just to tie her outside, but then we learned that there’s a stray dog in the area.

(Thank goodness we got her inside before he found her.)

So, we’re back to the daily diaper struggle.

After experimenting with different size/type holes for the tail – and noting that the sticky tabs must go on the diaper and not the panel that lets you peel them back off – we spent several hours giggling as she walked crooked, and spun in circles trying to grab her own bulky butt.

Poor Daisy Dew Drop. She’s about to meet her vet.

Daisy Dew Drop Report

Ever try to type on a keyboard when you have a beagle puppy in your lap? Well, it was much easier when she fit in my lap. But now, at almost six months old, she no longer fits, and is either constantly falling off one side or another, or decides she’ll try climbing upon the desk.

When I put her down, she gets mad, and chews on the handle beneath the chair seat that allows height adjustment.

I know. It’s my fault. I spoiled her.

She outgrew her puppy bed (actually it was a hand-me-down cat bed) and I went to KMart and got her a big dog bed. She’d still rather sleep with us in our bed.

Again. My fault.

I did learn a way to keep her from “helping me” in the garden. (Everything I planted, she dug; everything I laid down, she picked up.) Basically, I offered her a rawhide, and made her watch me bury it. While she was busy digging up the rawhide, I worked in the garden.

She follows any one or any thing that leaves the house via the driveway. So far, she’s turned right around and headed back once she passed the barn, but there have also been times where she got interested in the smells and inhabitants of the barn, and decided not to come right home.

It took several treats to get her attention then.

She has taken to the leash well, but is rarely on it. She understands the word “no” but is constantly testing to see if you mean no when you say no. She sits, and sits up, and has no interest whatsoever in shaking. She’ll bring whatever you throw back to you, but that doesn’t mean she’ll let go.

All shoes in the house are at a height of 3 feet or higher. All speaker wires are now, if along the floor, covered and secured with duct tape.

When left home all day alone (Frank went back to work), she uses her pee pad, and doesn’t poop. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. She hasn’t chewed any furniture or important possession in our absense, but has developed a fondness for tissues and paper towells, and will seek them out of small trashcans or off end tables and shred them to pieces.

She has not discovered the toilet paper roll.

Yet.

She makes me laugh, smile or giggle at least three times a day, and I’m sure it’s the same for Frank. She visits the “outside” dogs, who are tied, and plays with them.

She likes being scratched under her chin, and is learning, slowly, not to crawl all over company. She eats spiders, and moths, and brown beetles. (Good girl!) She likes ice cubes. She hates baths, but she’ll visit you every time you’re in the shower.

If you set down a beer, coffee, pencil, rubber band, paper, or other item in front of her, (say, on the coffee table) she will take it – and run.

She only barks at the vaccuum cleaner.

I know I haven’t show any pictures of her in a while – the most recent are 35mm and the photos aren’t back yet.