The Poor Family Dog

We have a dog, Ginger. I have to admit that she often gets a bad rap, not that it isn't deserved most of the time. As any of you know that also have a family dog, I have little time for her. I have a lot on my plate. I have 4 children and a husband and a house to try to keep sort of clean. I didn't really sign up for the dog thing as well. I just kind of got out numbered. I will admit that I didn't say no. How could I when the kids had been asking for a dog forever and Scott calls me on the phone and tells me to look at a picture of the dog on the Internet with the sound of longing in his voice. She really isn't a bad dog. She wasn't very hard to potty train at all. She is great with the kids. She is careful with the baby. She does chew things at times. We have lost a few pairs of shoes and some toys. I really can't complain when she chews up a Barbie that has been left on the living room floor as if it were placed on the sacrificial alter. The kids should pick up their toys and that is a great cause and effect lesson. Nevertheless, she is the first one to get blamed when something goes missing.

Last night was a prime example. Scott walked down the hall and found the insides of a diaper just sitting there in a pile. It wasn't a lot but enough to know what it was. My first response is, the dog did it. I honestly can't remember the last time that she chewed up a diaper, as disgusting as that is. So I made Kennedy and Morgan go looking for the rest of it. The shell had to be hidden somewhere. They looked and couldn't find it anywhere. Now when I say they looked, I wouldn't say that they really looked. So then I warn them that if I find it they are going to be in trouble. I'm sure I threatened them with some terrible punishment that I can't remember right now. They still couldn't find it. So I started looking. I looked everywhere. I looked under beds, in closets, behind couches and in the backyard. All the usual places that she likes to take her prizes. Nothing. I was sure she did it and I was going to find it in the middle of the night by stepping in it. Then we found some more diaper innards. It wasn't a lot. Just a few little piles leading down the hall. I couldn't figure it out. It wasn't there a minute ago. It took me about an hour for check the other diaper walking around the house. I found it. Ian had a blown out diaper, literally. It was loosing its stuffing by the second. I have to admit I felt a little sorry for Ginger. I had been giving her scary looks and asking where the diaper was and she just looked up at me with her big sad hound dog eyes as if to say, "I really didn't do it this time lady." I guess I just need to get it off my chest and say "Sorry Ginger."