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Self Flagellation at it's finest

In an attempt to punish ourselves, either for sins of the past, or in anticipation of sins we plan to make, we’ve taken on two new broken dogs. Cause, that’s how karma works, right? You bank actions and have them count toward future transgressions. I know. I joke, I joke, I kid, I kid.

Six is our new number. Bella (16), our first dog – corgi-chow-heeler, ancient and arthritic, subsisting solely on pain pills and peanut butter treats. And then there’s the huskies:

Trixie (9), the one with half a hip and a bad attitude. Mikey (6), crack-house survivor with non-contagious Demodex and serious separation anxiety. Ray Charles (3), half blind in one eye, totally blind in the other. Princess Buttercup (3), abuse victim with sad eyes and anorexic tendencies. Lil’ C (1), stunted growth, no boundaries, no eyes, and no potty training.

So far the introductions have been a cacophony of bruised egos, attempts at dominance, and misguided alpha tendencies. And that’s just between BW and I.

The house itself had made it three and a half days before the first fatality. Today we said goodbye to a down comforter, one bath towel, part of an Ugg boot, and two dog toys. Such is the voracious wrath of a husky puppy.

Lil’ C (pictured above) will be hard pressed to beat Ray Charles’ record the first few months he was with us as a 12mo puppy: 10 square feet wood flooring, one kitchen wall, one front door, one leather couch, one leather recliner, one leather arm chair, a stairwell of carpeting, two hats, six books, four pairs of shoes, three dog collars, and countless dog toys.

Lil’ C is at a significant disadvantage as Ray Charles has partial vision in one eye whereas Lil’ C has none. As I keep tally, it will be interesting to see how much, if at all, that impacts this little swirling vortex of destruction. I’ll keep you posted.


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