Never trust a Frenchie

Bunny and Mae having a girl fight

Bunny and Mae having a girl fight

Sean and I grow increasingly concerned about Bunny. She seems to have learned some rather unsavory habits over the last month or so – specifically, she’s becoming an unrepentent kleptomaniac. At one time, she was content to simply shred anything plastic she could get her hands on. Now, however, shredding isn’t good enough – she has to steal items, and then bury them underneath her, in her bed. Bunny then perches on top of her hoard of purloined booty, looking angelic and shrugging adorably when we shriek “Bunny! Where the hell is the satellite remote control??”.

Life with circus dogs is always a challenge, a point proven to me yesterday, when I discovered Bunny sitting next to my computer. On my desk. She had either gotten there via my rolling desk chair, or possibly by levitation, a feat I do not put past her. Personally, I suspect she was browsing on line shopping sites, likely because I had stupidly left my credit card sitting in front of the monitor. Well played, Bun Bun.

Later in the evening, Sean found her on the end table next to the sofa, where she was either in the process of attempting to turn on the lamp, or stealing all the lightbulbs.

It’s sad to see a good dog go so very bad, but it’s hardly surprising in a French Bulldog. Some of the hardest cases have even resorted to sled jacking. Next stop, dealing cat nip outside kitty shelters….

What dogs do when they're bored

Delilah in the SnowWe have a lot of snow up here in my neck of woods. You, wherever you are, you think you have snow – but trust me, you don’t.

I have snow so deep, the dogs can’t get out the dog doors.

Snow so deep, the dogs can climb over the five foot fence around the dog areas, because the drifts are that high.

Snow so deep that when Delilah looks for her poo spot, all you can see are the tips of her ears.

Snow so deep that they close off all the roads for 24 hours at a time.

That, my friends – that’s the kind of snow we have.

There are a few bad things about this amount of snow, other than the oh so obvious things, like ‘it sucks, and so does shoveling it’. The dogs, for instance, are bored out of their skulls. Even my lazy Frenchies are experiencing cabin fever, especially the perky gals I fondly refer to as the Hellion-ettes : Bunny; Tula; Fanny and Paris.

The Hellion-ettes enjoy a good romp or twelve, and a little bit of snow doesn’t stop them. The operative word there is ‘little’ – this influx of snow has done a fine job of stopping them from getting further than the ten foot runway I keep cleared outside the dog room door. For half the day, in alternating periods of time, the dogs are shuffled between the family room, and the dog room. The dog room is well stocked with amusements – treat balls, kongs, nylabones and hooves, but all the toys in the world can’t make up for the limited outdoor play space the dogs have been putting up with lately.

The good news is that bored dogs are well able to invent their own pastimes. The bad news is that they rarely invent games that their people enjoy equally well.

Sean was upstairs gathering wood for the fireplace when he yelled for me to check on the dogs. “They’re up to no good, I can hear them dragging something around.”

I walked in and found Fanny and Bunny lying on their donut beds, peacefully chewing nylabones, and looking at me with expressions of pleasant incomprehension. I shrugged, and went back to finish my work.

Five minutes later, Sean yelled at me again – “I swear to God, it sounds like they’re tearing something apart in there. Go check it out!”. I sighed, and went to have another look. Again, two innocent dogs, looking at me with innocent faces. I ignored the sneaking suspicion that they were snickering at me as I left the room, and walked back to my desk.

The next time, Sean didn’t need to yell at me – I heard a crash banging racket coming from the dog room, and the sounds of the dog doors flapping back and forth. I decided to pop outside to see what they were up to, and, since I’m not stupid, I decided to bring the camera with me.

I’m glad I did.

Fanny pulling the downspout through the dog door

This is Fanny, coming out the dog door, as Bunny disappeared back into it.

That piece of beige metal? That’s the downspout off of our house, which Bunny had been trying to drag inside through the dog door. Fanny was apparently her cheering section, but the fun wore off when she heard my yelp of anger.

Here’s Fanny, bolting for the safety of the house. You can barely see her, but Bunny is peering out of the dog doors with a worried “Oh crap, she caught us” look on her face.

Fanny heads for the house

I’m thinking of investing in some treadmills for the Hellion-ettes – and for myself. I’m going to need some serious training to be able to keep up with the trouble these girls get into.