Worn out

It's catching up with me now.

Charlie dog actually got to go for a long walk this morning, because it wasn't pitch dark when I got up. But, now it's not even eight o'clock, and I'm ready for bed. Exhausted I am.

Have the whole pirate get up worked out -- I think -- and yes, of course there'll be pictures. I have no problem at all with putting silly pictures of myself on line. It's the serious ones that get me.

The wonder dog has been getting into some serious shenanigans while I've been at work the last two weeks. In hopes of burrowing through my bedroom door, he's ripped up a 12 inch by 6 inch part of the carpet, and messed up the side of his nose pretty good in the process. So, first I tried to cover the carpet with bricks from the outside. Two heavy bricks. Two heavy bricks on top of one another, which I promptly stubbed my toe on 20 minutes later. The next day I came home to find the bricks tossed to the side of the door like pillows, and more gray fluff that used to be my carpet.

I then gave in, and left my bedroom door open. I figured he might as well go in there and on the bed if he's going to destroy the house. I don't really mind -- it's just that my bed is particularly high off the floor, and if he fell, he could really hurt himself.

For two days all was fine.

Then.

I came home from work, and noticed that the blinds in the window in my bedroom were strangely bent. I ran into the house, and saw that the little poop had climbed up on my laundry basket (actually the mountain of clothes that were in my laundry basket), and had been basically... uh... chewing on the metal window blinds.

I know!

I've had Charlie for three years. Tomorrow is the third anniversary of my bringing him home from the shelter, and now he starts acting like a demolition team? What's up with that?

So, I did some major rearranging in my room, got the piles away from the window, and left for work again this morning (after a long walk, mind you).

Came home, and what I saw scared me.

He had climbed up on my dresser. My dresser! This little 25 pound creature had climbed up on a chair next to my dresser and somehow made it across to the top. I know, because the sweaters that were left on top of the dresser were all on the floor, and there were bent blinds again, this time in the other window by the dresser. This is frightening, because if he fell, he would really do some damage.

Gah.

If he was a puppy, or a dog I'd just brought home, at least I'd get what was going on. He's 6 years old, and has been with me, in this same house, for three years. What gives? He's lying now on his little bed as if nothing would suit him more than bon bons and crumpets. He's a wuss most of the time. When I leave does his inner bad dog come out?

I need to call the vet or the trainer I took him to when I first got him. This has to stop. I rent. I've already got to pay for the ripped up carpet and the ruined blinds. Oh yeah, my landlady's gonna love me. I'm giving renters with dogs a bad name.

Problem is, I hardly have enough time to breathe lately, let alone make an appointment during business hours.

Suggestions anyone?