The Curious Case of the Midnight Pooper
I have two dogs, a Goldendoodle (pretty girl) and a Maltipoo (manly man).
Guess which one Husband Dearest refuses to walk in public?
Hazel, the Golden, is four years old, the younger of our furry children. She loves water and has the same birthday as Husband Dearest. Hazel has food allergies and this and that and the other – all of which amounts to a canine money pit. That’s why we think she was made to be as sweet as she is…because somehow she had to be worth it. And she is. Thanks to her Golden side, she is loyal, playful and a good cuddler.
Thanks to what we can only imagine is her Poodle side, you could also drop a piano on her foot before she would ever scream as loudly as she does if, should the holy gates of Hell open, and a child walks by.
At that point, she will grab her own leash and drag you back home to hoard water and prepare for the apocalypse.
Scout, the Maltipoo, is the best birthday present I have ever gotten and also the dog voted “Most Likely to Apologize While Biting You at the Same Time.” He has several aliases: Scooie, Little Man or The Wizard. As with anyone who holds several forms of ID and is known by many names, this 12 lb, 6-year-old ninja brainiac is the one you think twice about leaving a ball point pen around – because there is a small chance he will use it to create a lock pick and be in Cabo before you get out of the bathroom.
He is also the one that got new dog food yesterday. And also the one that really liked his new food yesterday. And also the one who woke me up at 2 in the morning to show the lawn how much he liked his new food yester – well, I guess today.
Anyway, meet the Fur Babies: