Poop, poop, and more poop!

I took Scooby out twice this morning. Once at 8:45 and she didn't go at all. I took her again at 10:15 and she peed. We came back in the house, I went into the other room for just a moment, and when I came back she had pooped on the carpet.

Here's what I don't understand:

1. Why didn't she poop when we were outside?
2. Why can't she poop on the %#@#$ tile in the den instead of on my hand-knotted, tres expensive rug?

The funny thing is that I knew right away she had done something just by how she looked. I just don't get it.

What's there to love about a dog?

In the spirit of trying to look for what's good about having a dog (and, more specifically, a puppy), I thought I would try to list the good things about Scooby:

1. She's thrilled to see me every time I walk in the room.
2. She likes my company so much that she'll sleep under my chair when I sit at the table in the kitchen (as long as Dan isn't in the room).

The hard thing for me is that there are just so many more things that I like about my cats:

1. They are also glad to see me when I walk in the room.
2. They like to sleep in my lap and snuggle.
3. They purr, so I get automatic feedback as to what pleases them. With Scooby, who knows what petting makes her happy because her reaction is the same no matter what: she chews on me.
4. They're clean and don't smell. All this time I thought dogs that smelled just hadn't been bathed enough. Now I've learned that it isn't that--Scooby smells even immediately after her bath.
5. They came house broken.
6. They don't chew on me.
7. They don't try to eat the food out of my plate (at least not while I'm looking).
8. Cleaning up cat poop (from a litter box) is MUCH easier than cleaning up dog poop.

I can see I've got to work harder at finding the good things about Scooby. Although some of this is meant to be light-hearted, in some ways I'm also quite serious. I know there are millions of dog lovers out there and I just don't get it--yet.

Scooby

There are lots of things I love: my husband, my son, chocolate, cats...but I don't love this dog. I desperately want to love her. But how do you love something that poops and tinkles on your carpet, has given you more bruises on your legs than you would find on a hockey player, and who thinks of your hands as her favorite chew toy?

I guess I should backtrack a bit: We got Scooby, a golden retriever, a little more than two months ago. She's four months old now.

It isn't that I hate dogs--I really do like them. I just can't figure out why people think that dogs are so wonderful. What am I missing? One of my friends' parents came over to visit today and they were crazy about Scooby.

So, my plan is to start this blog in order to document my trials and tribulations with the Scoobinator. I hope that I can find the silver lining in this golden retriever.