September 23, 2016

White Dog asked, "Does it count for today if it happened before we were even awake?" It happened at 4 am and the proverbial, "not a creature was stirring..."

EXCEPT, that is, for Miss Trixie Marie. I thought I heard her tags jingle as she peeked into the bedroom to check on us but in my half-sleep convinced myself I was dreaming and pulled the covers up.

The crashing of the baby gate and the loud clatter shortly after...THOSE I did not dream. "What was that?" I asked instantly wide awake. Steve mumbled, "Can't be good," as he threw back the blankets and scooted to the end of the bed to get up.

Three seconds later. "TRIXIE!"

Steve, in an attempt to get ahead in our new more rushed morning routine, was experimenting with how to streamline the system. He made White Dog Army breakfasts before bedtime, put them in a tray with water to act as an ant moat, and had set the baby gate across the kitchen door to keep out marauding coyotes and ninja Nearly White Dogs. When we turned out the light at 11:30 the Army was soundly sleeping...including the one snoring on her favorite seat on the sun porch.

The System had failed. Catastrophically. In the dark in the kitchen over the knocked down gate was Trixie.

Steve flipped on the light to discover water all over the floor and Miss Trix with her head buried in the mess of kibbles and food. She had already eaten her breakfast as well as a couple of others and it was clear she was hell bent on munching through everything on the floor.

She looked up to greet Steve as she continued to chew. Steve quickly put the gate back up to prevent others from joining her as they awoke to the commotion. Trixie was ushered outside, but not without some backtalk and a Gandhi-like refusal to move. She immediately came back in through the dog door but now was on the other side of the gate so Steve could accomplish cleanup.

Almost half an hour later, Steve removed the gate. "Well that did not work very well," he reported. She ate her breakfast and about half of the Army's. He climbed back into bed and sighed at the clock. "She is not going to be happy with the morsels she receives this morning," he yawned.

"Quick!," I pushed at him. "Get her outside." In the living room I could hear the preliminary sounds of her over-indulgence coming back up to haunt her. Steve flew into the room. I heard him grab her harness and practically drag her to the back door. "Do that OUTSIDE," he told her. "Go on!" And he waited at the door so she could see him.

She lost her breakfast and came back to Steve pathetically. "It is your own greedy fault, big girl. Go lie down and hope that all is good now. We still have a bit of time before the alarm."


Random Felines said...

Every good plan has that one dog (or cat) that figures it out....

meowmeowmans said...

We're sorry to hear that Trixie foiled Steve's plan to streamline the system. But we know the WDA is patient and creative. We bet you'll figure out something even better. :)

Jans Funny Farm said...

Can't help but laugh at the creativity on both parts - Steve and Trixie. Too bad the plans failed.