…or whatever amounts to one of those. Yep, that’s what I need, because Stormy the Wonder Dog is exhibiting some very strange and rather destructive behavior that needs to be curbed NOW, before we have to do electro-shock therapy or give him lithium. Or give the same options to my dad.
I’m just going to say upfront that I understand that this new behavior of his is NOT EVEN REMOTELY FUNNY. I know this, Dad. Really, I do. IT.IS.NOT.FUNNY. And I am burying my head under the pillow and fighting back these noises because I am so MORTIFIED by my dog’s behavior that I can barely handle the stress and humiliation. This is not laughter. This is remorse and… sobs of dismay.
I am dismayed. Because WHENEVER my parents leave their bedroom door open, StWD waits for an opportunity when no one is around, races INTO their bedroom, jumps up ONTO the bed, proceeds to paw at and dig at the covers, throwing off pillows and various bed accessories, then rolls around a bit and THEN he runs out and leaves it a HUGE mess.
Now, my mother ALWAYS makes her bed, and my dad’s theory is that Stormy believes that beds should NOT be made up, because my daughters leave their beds in such disarray that we often believe a tornado has torn through our living area. If you asked my niece, RubySue, she would let you know that this is entirely possible. Have you not SEEN Little House on the Prairie?
I suppose my dad’s theory is as good as any, but it only seems to pertain to THEIR bed, and Stormy doesn’t do it when I make MY bed. Of course, he shares this bed with me, and perhaps he thinks there is no fun to be found in tearing it apart, because he fears I will force him to help me MAKE it after he does his thing. I know my children’s minds work in that particularly strange manner.
Now, he actually started this a few months ago, but I thought he had stopped, and I was unaware his bizarre behavior was still going on, until earlier this week, when my mother said to me, “I am SO mad at your dog.” And then she showed me her bed, all torn up and the covers pulled off, and I swallowed all that laughter that wanted to come bubbling out because THIS IS NOT FUNNY, PEOPLE. This is serious business. It really SUCKS to make your bed, and then have a dog just jump up there like a seven-year-old boy and just jump around and tear it to bits.
We need an intervention. Or something like that.