(www.meowbarkblog.com) — It’s been a rough couple of weeks with the animals lately simply because we’re both very tired and busy right now. As the one who works exclusively from home, I’ve had the pleasure of bearing the brunt of the animal frustration these days.  

To get through it without selling anyone to the circus, I’ve managed to find humor in situations that would other wise probably make me cry in my current cranky condition.

You Know the Dogs Have Taken Over When…

… you find yourself vacuuming the comforter because you’re so sick of schlepping to the laundromat since it won’t fit in your own washer — and you wonder why you didn’t think of this sooner.

… instead of getting annoyed that the dogs knocked over the trash can when you went out to get the mail, you’re just relieved they didn’t eat the remote control you forgot to put on top of the piano for safekeeping.

… it begins to seem normal to squeeze yourself into 4 square inches of couch space because you can’t get a sleeping mastiff to move to the floor.

… the moment you see a dog on TV, you immediately lunge for the mute button while saying loudly “It’s TV, it’s TV” to reassure your animals that their inevitable frantic barking at the television dog’s first sound is completely unnecessary.

… you’ve stopped fighting against letting them in through the back door even though there’s a perfectly good dog door if they would just walk the extra 50 feet to get to it.

How can you tell the dogs have taken over at your house?

Contents Copyright © 2009 Kristen King

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(www.meowbarkblog.com) — If there’s one thing Ty loves, it’s stuffed animals. And he’s going to get them, no matter what it takes! See what I mean?

We call him Mr. Barky Buns Big Head. I’m sure you can figure out why.

Contents Copyright © 2008 Kristen King

(www.meowbarkblog.com) — Oh boy, oh boy, the dogs learned a new trick! It’s called “jump up on the counter and eat stuff they have no business eating and then shred the evidence all over the house so no one can prove nuttin’.” It’s totally precious. Except for NOT.

About two weeks ago, I came home from the post office and everything seemed normal. Until I went to make lunch and couldn’t find the baguette I had thought was on the kitchen counter. I called my husband at work.

“Did you take the baguette to work with you?”

“Uh, no, why?” he asked, like that wasn’t a perfectly reasonable question.

“I can’t fi– oh my God, is that part of a PANERA BAG????”

“What are you talking about?”

“Murphy just rolled over and there is part of a Panera bag under him on the dog bed.” I later found small pieces of it in about six other locations. But not nearly enough to make a whole bag. Hmm.

“Maybe you should talk to him about the baguette.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

In the week or so that followed, the dogs consumed:

• Half a pan of brownies
• A box of Krispy Kreme donuts
• A bag of single-serve coffee filters
• A raw, unwashed sweet potato
• Part of a grilled cheese sandwich
• Several paper plates and napkins
• Eight (8!!!!!) empty cardboard boxes
• A sheaf of brochures from my husband’s old company

And those are just the items we found evidence of. I shudder to think what may have gone missing without our noticing yet.

At first we thought it was Ty (he HAS been mighty pushy when I open the fridge lately), but based on last night and this morning, we’re pretty sure it’s Murphy. You see, Murphy has food allergies. Wheat, corn, beef, things normal dogs can eat. We switched him to food that doesn’t contain those things and limited his treat intake, and his dandruff and horrible stomach rash went away.

So when his rash came back in one small spot on his inner thigh (is that what you call it on a dog?) a few days ago and then spread with a vengeance I’ve never seen to the rest of his stomach last night, I took him to the vet right away. Turns out he has a staph infection (!!!) because he licked the living daylights out of it over the last few days, unbeknownst to me. The diagnosis? “Must be the stolen food,” the vet said solemnly. She did not add, “You neglectful dog-mother, you,” though I suspect from her expression that she was thinking it.

Now, not only do we have to change his TREATS to make extra sure he’s not consuming any allergens whatsoever and stop giving him people food entirely (what, you do it too, shut up), we can’t leave anything edible (or inedible, for that matter) on our counters or tables, lest he scarf them down.

It’s kind of like childproofing, except your toddler has the reach of a six-foot-tall adult and will not only mouth but actually consume whatever he can acquire.

Why did he have to finally realize just how tall he is???

Previous episodes of “Things Murphy Destroyed or Ate”:

• My Glasses Case
• Prescription Drugs
• A Framed Photo of the Dogs
• Electronics
• A Wallet

Contents Copyright © 2008 Kristen King

Well, if this isn’t irony, I don’t know what is. I came home from being gone maybe an hour, and found the house in utter disarray.

Now, before I get into the details, it’s important to point out that with as well as things have been going since Bark Busters came, we’ve started leaving the dogs loose in the house when we’re gone for short periods of time. Aside from a few garbage can incidents, it’s been mostly successful. Until yesterday.

Something felt a little…off when I walked in. Then, I saw the new phone book. Or, rather, what was left of the new phone book. We’d dropped it on the coffee table and forgotten about it, but the dogs didn’t! Parts of the alphabet were strewn all over the house, with a big shredded pile still attached to the binding. Bye-bye, phone book!

It wasn’t until I began picking up G-J that I realized that something else was in the pile. I started finding broken glass and wood splinters. And then I discovered our “family photo” amid the debris: me, Jesse, and the three dogs.

They stole a wrapped present out of a bag in the dining room, unwrapped it, and procecded to utterly destroy a framed photo of themselves. Except, the picture was unharmed, just a little slobbery. Awesome.

Even more awesome was that as I swept up the mess, I started finding huge splotches of blood all over the floor. A careful examination of everyone’s paws failed to reveal who the bleeder was. It wasn’t until I separated everyone during the cleaning efforts that I finally discovered who it was: Pickles, as evidenced by the blood spots all over the white carpet in my office, where she was confined. Did I mention that it was awesome? She is fine, by the way.

In Murphy’s defense, I don’t think he worked alone. But now that we’ve stopped calling him “the life ruiner,” we’re back to referring to him as “Destructor.”

And here are a few other things they’ve destroyed recently. My favorite was the feather pillow. It looked like a duck exploded, and the best part was the feather stuck all over Murphy’s face.