There's a good reason why I haven't been blogging about Danny recently. I can sum it up in one word - pissed.
In the last few weeks he's been going out of his way to annoy the whole family. Almost everyday, I've been returning home to a tirade of all the rubbish he's been up to. It seems that after the last few months of being relatively good, he's gotten tired of his halo and now the tail and pitchfork are back.
He's favourite hobby, it seems, is grabbing a cushion and making off with it, forcing mom to chase after him. Of course mom is 70 years old and isn't quite up to dashing around furniture and crawling under tables. Often, she ends up grabbing the nearest item and hurling it at him.
I must say, at 70, she's dead accurate.
Hobby no. 2 is yelping at the top of his voice for whatever he wants. Example, he started this morning at about 11. Taking trainer no.1's advice, we are ignoring him. It is now 3 in the afternoon and my nerves are shot.
And of course, the moment he misbehaves, he becomes "my dog".
Anyhow, I think "my dog" signed his own death warrant yesterday. He grabbed a small pillow and ripped it to shreads. All the stuffing flew all over the place. After we cleaned it up, mom announced that her friend claims to be great at training dogs and has kindly offered to take him in for two weeks.
Nothing's confirmed, but if he doesn't get his act together, Danny may soon be off to boarding school.
I think I feel sorrier for the trainer.
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