It is no secret that Rhett Butler is the apple of our eyes- both B & I are in love with ball of fur, who greets us with a wagging tale & devoted love every time we come home. Lately we’ve been working on letting him stay alone in our master bedroom (where is his crate resides) with the crate door open, so he has a little more space. It has worked well in the sense that he doesn’t mind being left alone so much & hasn’t tried to eat anything he shouldn’t. He’s also used the time to claim ownership of the master bed, the only forbidden spot in the house. (Sigh.) He particularly likes burrowing under our pillows to snooze the day away, but only if the pillowcases are freshly laundered.

 (Rhett Butler struggles with the concept of hard floors versus soft beds. Unless it is our bed.)

Most nights he tries, at least once, to join the humans in bed, and most nights he is quickly discovered (Hint: When you jump on my head, you tend to wake me up you dumb mutt. Love, Mama)  & removed to his bed on the floor. (Where he is tucked back in under his very own fleece because he is SPOILED & also, really likes being under covers.) Last night however, we were woken up because he’d jumped up into our bed and was standing, between us, all 21 pounds of him shaking like a leaf. With each flash of lightening and clap of thunder he shook more. He is a perpetual whiner- he whines when he wants food, attention, love, a belly rub, attention, a treat, a walk, or attention. Last night however he wasn’t whining, but just shaking uncontrollably. We patted him and turned the lights on and gave him a treat calming pills (made of turkey & beer hops…mmm!) and he gave us those huge hound dog eyes and we immediately granted him permission to sleep in the middle of our bed, where he feels safe & comforted. Of course he was still a bit scared and kept jumping up at a big clap of thunder and running under the bed because MOM IT IS SCARY OUT THERE. B slept through all of this but of course, I woke up every damn time. Dog: 1, Humans: 0.

 (Bedskirt pulled up for photo purposes only, just to show you The Precious & also how hounds look when they are Very Very Worried.)

This morning however, (once the sun had come up) I realized that the rain was at least a little….lighter…than it had been and I insisted he was going outside. He abhors going out in the rain but I snapped on his jaunty rain coat (don’t mock, have you smelled wet hound?) and drug him out the front door, marching all the way to park where I just stood, in my rain boots and coat, in the downpour, in the middle of the grass. He had no option other than to put on his big boy pants & go potty. He and I stared at each other for awhile, and finally, after realizing I wasn’t budging, he did his business. Dog: 0, Humans: 1.

 (RB hates his rain coat, but he hates rain more so he obliges. Sort of. Face it: he hates it.)

Then he came home and rolled around on a piece of dog kibble for 10 minutes, stopping only to toss it in the air and roll on it some more and yelp out of pure happiness and spazziness and I realized perhaps I should just quit keeping score.

(My parents are picking up their new fur baby soon….he looked like this a few weeks ago:

-My Mom & I think they should name him Atticus but Dad is lobbying hard for Mickelson. What say ye?)