August 3, 2011


I love my dog. I really do. And I brag about him a lot (in case you haven't been able to tell by all the ridiculous pictures I post). But there are days, like today, where I want to kill him.

Let's take a walk down memory lane for a second. I adopted Roscoe from a shelter in the summer of 2009 when Miles was deployed.  I was living in South Carolina and we knew we were going to get a dog soon and wanted a boxer. Most weekends I would drive down from SC to our newly purchased home in GA to check on the house, water the plants, and visit the shelter looking for a dog. One weekend I was about to leave when an employee recognized me and asked if there as any particular dog I was looking for. I told her we liked Boxers and she had me fill out an application and said she would annotate that we wanted a Boxer and contact me when they had one. At the same time, the vet walked by and said that they actually did have a Boxer who would be released from quarantine later that day (they fix all the animals, give them their shots, and microchip them before putting them out for adoption). He asked if I wanted to see him, brought Roscoe out, and it was love at first sight. I went home with him that day.

For the first couple of weeks, I was convinced I had just adopted the greatest dog ever. He was so well behaved, house broken, and just very lovable. I would leave for class and come home to a clean apartment and a happy dog. Life was good.

Then Roscoe started to get a little comfortable. And a little bored. And a lot destructive.

I came home to this one day:

Yes, that is dog poop. And tampons, and oreos, lollipops, socks, goldfish, flip flops, you name it . .. Roscoe got into it. Just a side note - I had and still have a lot of friends deployed and {most} of the junk food was meant for care packages which I assumed I had put away and hidden well enough. I was wrong.

Another day, I came home to this:

Flour and sugar this time. Roscoe wanted to bake Miles a cake I suppose. How thoughtful. And he was polite enough to not open the ingredients in the kitchen, but rather drag them across the tile floor to the carpet. Thanks dog. But little by little Roscoe started to behave better. He also became friends with his crate and I got better at dog-proofing the house.

After moving to GA, we kept Roscoe in his crate for over a year until this past January when we assumed he had grown up a little and was less destructive. And for the most part, he really has been good. Most of his incidents have been as a result of our (mostly my) failure to dog-proof the house adequately. Take yesterday for example. I came home after running some errands. I had purchased some chocolate flavored candy to use in a chocolate fountain for a baby shower I'm hosting on Saturday. Like an idiot, I forgot about it when I left to go grocery shopping. I had purchased two, two-pound bags. Only one was remaining when I came home. Fortunately it was not real chocolate, but rather artificial chocolate, but still lots of sugary crap a dog should not eat, much less two pounds worth. And sure enough within an hour of being home, Roscoe began to vomit. And vomit. And vomit. Last night Finley slept for almost FIVE hours straight. This is the longest stretch he's had. I would have LOVED to enjoy it (ie - gotten to sleep during that time), but I was up at 1:30 cleaning up dog vomit. Sweet. Fortunately by 4:00am it seemed to be out of his system.

But as annoyed and sleep deprived as I was throughout the night, I knew that it was my fault for leaving the candy out in the first place. A dog is still a dog. I was just thankful it wasn't more serious. And today, after going back to loving my dog who I was thankful I didn't kill by accidentally poisoning him, I came home to a mess making me wish the artificial chocolate had killed him for me.

I ran out for a few errands - was only gone for maybe three hours. As soon as I walked inside, Roscoe ran into the garage looking guilty and scared. I walked into the family room and saw this:

Confused, I thought "what did he get into this time?" Then I realized it was some bread I bought yesterday. An entire baguette to be specific. But I thought, "huh, how did he get to the bread, we keep that behind the wine" . . .and that's when I walked into the kitchen to find this:

Oh. My. Word.

Yes, I dragged him over to the scene of the crime and smacked him. Yes, I yelled, and yes I even cried a little. Mostly because he managed to not break the bottles of white wine, but rather the red wine that got all over my somewhat new kitchen rug.

My dear friend Rhiannon came over with some cleaner and was sweet enough to hold Finley, who had started to get fussy, so that I could clean up Roscoe's mess. I'm not sure which one, or if it was a combination of the three, but after applying these miracle liquids and hosing down the rug, I was able to get the stain out:

And thankfully this little guy helped keep me sane and much more calm than I would have been:

At the end of the day I still really love my dog. Yes he can be a pain and be obnoxious and even expensive, but he's given us so much laughter and love and even comfort over the years. He has been great company during Miles' deployments and he was so wonderful to have after we lost Cale. It's as if he knew our hearts were broken. After Miles called to tell me Daren had been killed, Roscoe came and sat by me and wouldn't leave my side. So be it vomit or diarrhea, broken glasses or stained carpets, having a dog, Roscoe in particular, is so worth it for moments like this:


Halloween 2009

Telling Miles I was pregnant with Cale. I'm happy Roscoe was a part of that special memory

And since I'm going crazy with the pictures and videos here's a few more.
 Tormenting the dog


  1. Ooooohhhh, I feel your pain! Hence the reason Oba will forever be crated when we're gone. :) I'm glad you got the stain out. I hope the wild man behaves himself a little better the next time you're away...

  2. OMG I am laughing so hard I'm crying watching the videos of his destruction - I thought I was the only one who had a dog like that haha! My Bruno has destroyed 7 pairs of black heels - amid countless rungs, sandals, workout equipment and more. And we still love them!

  3. Brings back some *fond* memories of Samson's misadventures...just recently I discovered something called Nature's Miracle (our Petco had a whole endcap with it) for bio has enzymes that 'eat up' the mess and take the smell away. Highly recommended, I now have gallons for the dog and kids :)

  4. Caroline, this just made me laugh. Dave and I recently moved to OKC from Colorado Springs last week. For the next few months, we signed a short lease on an apt just until we find a house we like. Hence, Bingley, our 50 lb goldendoodle, no longer has a yard to play in.

    We left our house for an hour yesterday to hit the gym together. When we returned, he had pulled all the cushions off the couch and started to rip out the stuffing in the couch. Yes. The stuffing. In the couch.

    So I went yesterday to PetSmart and bought a huge crate. I hauled it to my car while it was pouring rain, cursing the whole way.

  5. For some reason your posts don't show up in my feed, but I am glad I checked your blog! This post totally made me laugh! I have a boxer mix and she really is a good dog...not that there aren't a million times I have wanted to kill her, but more times than not I do love that damn dog. I also have 2 other dogs...ugh don't ask. It's not something I am proud of.

    Your pictures are priceless! There have been lots of times I have been woken up in the middle of the night at o' poop thirty in the am to clean up whatever nastiness is coming out because of something they got into that they shouldn't have.

    Glad he is worth all the trouble :)

  6. You know I am a huge dog lover, but they can definitely be infuriating! I cannot believe he broke wine bottles to get at a baguette! It's like Roscoe and I have the exact same taste in favorite treats. It's so true that they sense heartbreak, though, and I'm glad Roscoe could see you through those dark times. I think he and Cooper would be quite a pair (Cooper had to be crated after he ate a sofa cushion!!!) but he is more trustworthy these days.

  7. I think Roscoe and Carson (my lovely four-legged hairy dog) were separated at birth as Carson is the most destructive dog I've ever owned. I will say that I hear some dogs like to be crated because it allows them their own space and it can even be comforting. Just food for thought.