Heads or Tails: Sammi's Stuck

 

How does a Great Dane cross get stuck in a kitchen cupboard?  Maybe a better question is, why would a Great Dane get stuck in a kitchen cupboard?

Sammi is our Great Dane cross and she thinks she is a mouser.  Last week she had chased a mouse into one set of kitchen cupboards.  I had already removed most breakable things from this cupboard when she had made an earlier foray into them after a mouse.  Sammi is like a guided missile locking onto her target.  She tolerates nothing in her way.  

You see Sammi simply clears the shelves with her front paws when things are between her and the mouse.  The room ends up in shambles with all manner of things littering the floor.

I went to check on her when I heard Sammi whimpering in frustration.  I found her with her head in the cupboard.  Flour was all over the floor.  The second time I checked on her. Her front end was inside the cupboard.  I removed a few more things that I didn’t want on the floor.  And swept up all the flour.

The next time I looked over at her she had crawled all the way into the cupboard and was trying to get out the other side of the cupboard.  She was stuck and flour was everywhere.  It looked like someone had been in a flour fight.

I helped Sammi get out of the cupboard and started to clean up the flour.  Retrieving the remains of the flour sack, I noticed a mouse had carefully chewed a large hole in the bottom of the bag. Flour was still flowing everywhere. 

That is the tale of Sammi the dog, or should I say the head of the dog.

Baby Fritzy and the Christmas Slippers

I gave my husband a new pair of slippers for Christmas to replace the warm wonderful sheepskin slippers my sister's family had given him on a previous Christmas.  Those slippers had cocooned and warmed his cold feet until Baby Fritzy had chewed them to smithereens, hence the need for new slippers.

My dearly beloved whined about his cold feet.  At which time I lovingly reminded him that had he put his slippers up out of "Her" reach he would still be enjoying the warmth and comfort of his slippers.  He would give me wonderful impersonations of the warm and heartfelt emotions that grace basset hounds and their more jubilant cousins the blood hounds.

So I set about choosing a new pair of slippers to warm his "tootsies".  Since Fritzy has a leather fetish, I rejected all slippers made with this material.  I selected a pair of isotoner slippers made with black corduroy fabric, plush cushioning, and fuzzy fake fur lining.  I chose slip-ons for added comfort.

I had hid the present until Christmas Eve – because he tends to sniff out the contents much too easily.  On our way out to spend Christmas Eve with family I handed him his package. He held it, examined it, shook the box. Then cheerily announced they were slippers. I harrumphed and put the package up after securing Fritzy in the crate.

When we returned home Dan opened his package and donned his pair of slippers.  They warmed his toes and gave him great delight.  He took off his slippers before heading for a soak in the tub.  I was busy in another room.  Looking over my shoulder Sammi was on the love seat, Max was lying by the heat vent, Lady was at my side and Fritzy was laying in his recliner.

A short term later Dan emerged from the bathroom and we visited in the dining room.  He saucily asked where I was going to put “his” slippers to keep Baby Fritzy from eating them.  I lovingly explained that was “his” responsibility!  I went into the living room – Baby Fritzy was still in the recliner the slippers were still on the floor.  As I picked up the slippers I noticed the heel was wet and missing a small chunk of the fabric.  I looked at my husband and said “To late. She already got them.”

I turned to the dog and in my sternest teacher voice held the slippers up and told Fritzy she was a “Bad Dog”.  I then turned my sites on my husband as the dog jumped down and headed to my husband for protection.  Both she and my husband looked at me with “sad contrite eyes”.

I informed Dan that he needed to scold her for chewing on his slippers.  What I hear was a soft gentle voice say. “Baby if you chew your Momma’s going to get after you.”  

“Ahhgh” I tried explaining that he needed to set boundaries or she will continue to “chew”.  He looked at me with big eyes and responded – “She didn’t mean to r-u-i-n them.  Did you Baby? I just can’t get after her.” 

Fritzy looked up beseechingly next to Dan’s legs.  Seemingly asking “Are we still in the dog house?” 

Dan smiled sheepishly, “She really couldn’t help herself.  She knew it was wrong – but she only nibbled a small piece.  She had time to totally demolish it.”

I do not know which is harder to train - my big teddy bear of a husband – who turns to mush when he is faced with disciplining her or Baby Fritzy our charming rogue with a penchant for chewing?  Do they offer husband training classes?

This morning I looked through the sale ads – there are some great buys on slippers.  I guess I better stock up!