Our dog, Leigh, and I have gone through a lot together. When we got her from the German Shepherd Rescue Foundation, she was nine months old and fully grown. She is small for a German Shepherd and a pretty girl. She warmed up to us fast and was very sweet and patient with our two little boys. We brought her home and that's when I realized that even though she looked like a full-grown dog, she was definitely not one. I was pregnant with my third child when I specifically remember a time when I had been "traumatized" by the kennel training. Little dogs are sooooo much easier to train than big dogs. Little dogs have cute, little terds to pick up and flush down the toilet. Big dogs leave horse piles that sink to the bottom of the carpet. Those who believe that dogs will not do their business in their kennels have no idea what they are talking about. One day, Leigh couldn't control herself any longer and made a whopping mess in her kennel. My husband was at work, otherwise I would have had him clean it up. Since the stench was making the entire house reek, I had no choice but to clean up the mess myself. There I am on my knees with my big belly in the way yelling at Leigh and saying, "I (gag) hate (gag) you!" I couldn't even get the words out properly. As the years pass, Leigh finally understands that pooping anywhere in the house is a huge no-no, but the carpet especially. She is a very timid dog when it comes to telling her master and mistress that she needs to go outside. She would never dare to bark her head off to be let outside to do her business. Oh, no. She's much too classy for that. She just sits there and stares at us until we notice her and then we have to say, "Do you want to go outside?" proceeded by her running to the door with great excitement. If we are not available for her to stare at, then we're in for it. Last week, I come out of the office to smell a familiar stench since we had gotten a new puppy. I look around for the little terds that our darling puppy must have left behind, but couldn't find them. Then, Caleb says to me, "Mom, Leigh's in the bathtub!" I look into the bathroom and find the source of the stench. There's Leigh hiding in the bathtub having the fortuitous knowledge that pooping in the bathtub might keep her from getting into as much trouble as if she had pooped on the carpet. She was right. We actually felt sorry for the stinker. Days later, we were again unavailable for her to stare at, and she ended up pooping on top of our fan.
They instructed me to make sure I have a full bladder on arriving for my ultrasound. Ha. I almost laughed in their faces. Pregnant me plus a full bladder equals a disaster. On my son's birthday back in March, I had to drive all the kids home afterward. I had drunk a lot of water and couldn't believe I had forgotten what happens to me when I drink too much water with no bathroom nearby when I'm pregnant. I counted the minutes till I got home all the while breaking the law and speeding trying to keep in mind not to drive too recklessly screaming at the poky people in front of me. It brought to mind the very first time I experienced a full bladder as a pregnant woman. It was my first baby and my husband was in the Air Force. So, when we had an ultrasound we went to the Academy in Colorado Springs. They told me to drink an astronomical amount of water before I came. I did so and then we started out for the half hour drive to the hospital. By the time we were on the ...
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