Blaming The Wrong Dog

Blaming The Wrong Dog

Mum has been finding destruction in the house Sister GSP dogs when she gets home from work.  However, she is blaming the wrong dog, me!  My sister, Gypsy, is real good at being sneaky.  Mum never sees her digging at the furniture.  She doesn’t do it in front of mum.

I, on the other hand, do enjoy fluffing up my dog bed and my pillow but I don’t really scratch at it.  The trick is to carefully hook my paws into it and with an awkward jump up pull it up at the same time. Mum shouts out “Simba stop it, just lay down” and then I do.   Gypsy, on the other hand, goes at it like the pooch is digging to China.  I don’t hide my need for a fluffy bed; why would I. But mum keeps blaming the wrong dog, me!

A week ago, mum got real mad. Gypsy tore open the new couch, oooooo.  Mum pointed to the couch wildly saying, “Oh no!” a hundred times and finally ended with and angry “Who did this?”  as she looked over at me.  Gypsy was curled up being a wimp making sure not to make eye contact but mum paid no attention to Gypsy.  She was to busy giving me her evil eye.  I wonder if all mums practice their angry tones and evil eye look in front of a mirror to get it just right.

Lately, Gypsy’s favorite digging spot has been mum’s bed.  Mum has had to buy new sheets every week now along with several mattress pads and blankets.  This has been Gypsy’s favorite activity for a couple of months.  I don’t understand why mum just doesn’t close the bedroom door before she leaves.  Only a human would understand that.

Mum put a heavy duty painter’s canvas tarp on the bed and tied it on with bungee cords.  She was proud of herself to come up with such a super plan.  Little did she know, the tarp only served as an extra challenge that Gypsy wasn’t going to pass up.  Not only was the tarp shredded in long strips but so was

the blanket under the tarp, the sheets under the blanket, the mattress cover pad under the sheets. There was white fluff from the mattress pad all over the room.  Again, mum ends up blaming the wrong dog.  Gypsy didn’t even follow mum  because she new what she had done. Hint, hint, hint! Yup, I got the evil eye as she angrily asked “Who did this?” She picked up the pieces and brought them closer to me. She shook them at me and said “Not okay”. First of all, I”m not blind. Secondly, no dah! I’m 10, I’ve known it’s not okay for some time now.

Mum arrived home today with the nicest, big, fluffy dog beds. More dig toys for Gypsy. I wonder how long it will take her to rip into them. We have had many different doggy beds since Gypsy appeared but they don’t last.  Mum looked determination.

The new fluffy mattress cover went on the bed then the new sheets and then the new blanket. The bed was made and the bedroom door closed behind us. We went downstairs and she started spraying a horrendous smelling odor on the couch.  Gypsy couldn’t stand it so she left the room.  I have a high tolerance to just about everything so I stayed. High tolerance or not, I had no intention of laying in that stink. Mum sat on the couch looking like she was actually enjoying being alone on that big couch.  I knew she was just pretending so I jumped up to cuddle with her.  I hadn’t completely landed yet when her loud voice commanded “Get down!”.  She really meant it.

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It was finally time for bed.  I went up with mum and Gypsy went down for her last round in the backyard.  Mum was in the bathroom with the door closed.  I fluffed up my pillow and heard her tell me to stop and lay down.  I did.  Gypsy finally came up and jumped on the bed.  I don’t know if she suffered a moment of insanity or thought mum was gone but she started digging at the bed.  That bathroom door swung open so fast that it didn’t give Gypsy time to stop before mum saw her.  Busted! She finally got mum’s angry tone and the evil eye and I got a hug and an apology.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Simba's Mom

I was born and raised in California, lived in Pennsylvania for several years, and have recently moved to Delaware. I have gone from being a teacher for 20 years to a blogger and now back to teaching but still blogging. I have a great dog named Simba. Simba is a German Shorthaired Pointer. Life with Simba is an adventure every day. I have had dogs my entire life but I have learned most about dogs living with Simba. German Shorthaired Pointers really do become your best friend. They become extremely attached and that is why they say they have the Velcro phenomenon. Simba now has a sister 8 years younger and her name is Gypsy.
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