July 28, 2015

Angel or Demon Child?

White Dog came in and looked, then she turned on heel and walked out of the bedroom shaking her head. Sachi sat at the foot of the bed in sympathy.

Inside her locked crate, Zsofia howled a song of prison blues. She sang of the misery of confinement and the unfairness of the world. It was a little after 6a.m.

This was how I awakened.

I called to Steve, who was working in the office, thinking that maybe he had forgotten to release the Itty Bitty One from her night confinement and that our girl needed to go outside.

Bella ran over to the bed and pushed her head under my dangling hand. She looked up and smiled her "I am the good girl" smile.

Steve came in and was greeted by a burst of argument from the Dark One. "I am not even talking to you," he told her. "You are in major time out!"

"SHE won't tell you why she is in there," he said to me as the sweet lingering lounge mode shifted and my brain kicked into "function." "We were all in the office together when suddenly I noticed SOMEONE was gone. It was quiet." I silently cheered Steve's developing spidey sense. "I went to find her."

Bella finished the story..."she pulled the throw rug you used to cover the hole she chewed in the persian carpet out of the way and was starting to chew at the edges AGAIN!"

Our intent was to wait for the arrival of a small Turkish area rug and then to rotate the entire living room carpet so that Zsofia's destruction would be hidden by my chair. The new area rug would cover the area under my chair (where Bella's hideout is) and extend outward to offer an
area in front of my chair. This spot finder is where all of the White Dog Army lines up for treats and is important to our blind boy, YoYoMa, in gauging distances.

In the meantime we covered the damage with the original throw from in front of my chair, anchoring it down with the leg of the couch and the big water bowl.

This morning Zso pulled the covering from under the couch leg (and that couch is heavy) and pushed the five gallon drink container out of the way. She then moved the throw rug aside to reveal her original work of art. Steve caught her just as she was settling down for a chew.

We have, twice now scrubbed the area, thinking maybe there was an attractive scent drawing her fixation, and Steve has oversprayed citronella to detour her interest. Before she was released from jail this morning, we repositioned the rug so that it is now held down by the couch leg, the water bowl,, and a leg of the coffee table.

Zsofia spent the rest of the morning trying to make amends with Steve. She is not used to DAD being the one upset.