Once I got closer I saw that the lid was nicely chewed up and also discolored. About two seconds later I look further into the family room and find a mess all over the carpet. A few weeks ago I ordered Finn some Wee Can Too art supplies. I ordered a kit that came with three different powders you mix with water so kids can finger paint, as well as a chalk stick and a crayon. All the products are made with all organic edible ingredients so when your kid sticks his hands in his mouth while making his masterpiece, you don't have to freak out.
But you are entitled to freak out when your dog decides to make artwork on your family room carpet. But I was calm and collected and cleaned up the mess. And by "calm and collected" I mean I took a deep breath before yelling at Roscoe and calling him mean names I probably shouldn't have said in front of Finn. I also may or may not have thrown a sippy cup at him. Not one of my better moments I'll admit, but it was a weak throw at least. Anyway, I was too angry to take a picture of his mess, but here is what's left of Finn's art pack:
The third powder was coloring my carpet a nice shade of hunter green.
After cleaning up the mess and shampooing the carpet, I calmed down and let Roscoe in from the backyard. I told him I wasn't in any mood to talk to him yet, but he could at least come inside.
I was putzing around on the computer while Finn was napping and found this hilarious site called Dog shaming. I thought it was so fitting for the days' events and emailed the link to a few of my dog-lover friends. Plus it was nice to get a good laugh and remind myself that other people have love-hate relationships with their dogs too.
So mess cleaned up, you can't even see where it was on the carpet, silly website put me in a better mood . . . problem solved right?
After nap time and lunch I needed to go out and run a few errands. I had barricaded the area of the carpet that had just been shampooed and left the house for a bit, but not before pointing my finger sternly at Roscoe and saying "Be a good dog!" in a very serious and threatening tone.
Yet when I came home I find an empty and chewed up jar of puffs on the ground! Seriously Roscoe!? Did you NOT just remember me screaming at you a few hours ago?!
I had just gotten an email from my friend Brooke, who has had her fair share of dog stories, and she said it's not too late to submit Roscoe's picture to the Dog shaming site. And, thanks to his latest shenanigans, I now could capture an in-the-moment picture. I can't decide which one to submit though - thoughts?
"Hey, where did all my puffs go?"
(you'll also notice the guilty party couldn't even look me in the eye)
Ugh. At least this wasn't messy to clean up. I really do love my dog and we will always be a dog owning family, but sometimes I just want to kill him.