Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Silence Of The Hounds

Remember this guy?

In case you were wondering, yes, he’s still a bad dog. A VERY bad dog.

My friend Pam came to visit over the weekend, and after spending an hour at our house, she swiftly concluded, “I mean, he’s cute and everything, but that dog is WILD.”

And he is.
While she was visiting, he spent the first 5 minutes barking at us from the top of the basement stairs, which he is too afraid to climb down. Brian tried carrying him downstairs and he go so scared he peed on Brian’s shirt. We brought him back upstairs and gave him a toy, only to listen to him gallop back and forth above our heads for the next 15 minutes. I went upstairs to check on him and found the stuffed animal headless, mutilated, and eviscerated, stuffing everywhere, and Milo starting to “tenderize” a cabinet door by licking it (which, we have learned, is his preamble to an outright chew-fest). So we put him in his crate to prevent damage to our cabinets, and lo and behold, he starts to bark incessantly. A few minutes later, his non-stop barking is accompanied by a rhythmic BANG BANG BANG as he hops/scoots his crate across the floor in a desperate attempt to breach the doorway.

As Pam so aptly put it, “I feel like I’m in Jurassic Park.”

(And in case you were wondering, this is as far as he’s gotten to date. Thank god the turn radius for a 36'' crate is lousy)

Pam will not be coming back to our house, and she told me she’s pretty sure she’s developed a case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from witnessing such animal mayhem.

Unlike Pam, Brian and I are confident beyond a shadow of a doubt that we’ve developed PTSD and a handful of other psychological disorders since acquiring our own little hell-hound.

Let’s take a tour of the damage, shall we?

Grandma's Chest

Custom-Made Bowed Window

Door Frame

Not included: 1 book, borrowed from a coworker, titled Life of Pi, that he destroyed on Sunday while I was taking a 5 minute shower.

And the most recent damage? We bought a steel cable long-leash and erected a line between two trees so that Milo could be let outside without running away (because nothing ruins your morning – and your 3-inch heels – faster than having to chase a wild puppy around your neighbor’s yard). We also bought a harness for him, because if we attached the leash to his collar, he could easily pull out of it.
5 minutes after putting the harness on him, I look over and he’s managed to get his mouth through the chest piece (don’t ask me how).

This was the result:

Apparently, Milo can chew through a thick nylon harness, designed to support the weight of a 130lb dog, in approximately 10 seconds.

They say that desperate times call for desperate measures, and after viewing the above photos, I feel confident that you’d agree that we are, in fact, in desperate times.

So, I’d like you to witness our newest desperate measure.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to our own little Hannibal Lecter.

Before you jump on the animal cruelty bandwagon, I’d like to point out that it’s only on when we can’t directly supervise him, and we’re sure to take it off frequently for him to eat and drink. But yes, we’ve been reduced to muzzling our little darling boy in a desperate attempt to salvage what’s left of the house.

Still think we’re cruel? Well, it’s either this, or put him back out on the streets.

Although I’m not sure what would be crueler in this situation:
Exposing Milo to the streets, or exposing the streets to Milo.

I’ll have to get back to you on that one…


PorkStar said...

hahahahahah exposing the streets to Milo, that's the best quote ever!

God I had a good laugh at this post and he is definitely one possesed little creature.

carrie said...

I think this is a brilliant idea that will keep you sane and him alive. Fully support it. Although I'm skeptical that it'll actually stay on him, knowing his Houdini-esque nature.


Bubbles aren't working? Really sorry about that. I had hoped that would work. Exhaustion seems to be the best medicine for our little hell puppy.

But those muzzles are *awesome*. We got one for him, and it's definitely his "time-out." He shrinks from it now b/c he hates it so much, and it's like when you reach for the muzzle, you immediately sign a pact with him that he'll do whatever you want him to do for the next half an hour, or as long as he vaguely remembers the threat of muzzling. It's blissful.

Erin said...

I await the post in which he chews through the muzzle and poops in your fridge. :)

Nelle said...

Hahaha, omg!!! Poor little Milo, but I have to agree with you on this one. He's crazed!!! I hope he doesn't chew through the muzzle! Good luck!

Jeanette said...

He will find a way out of that, guaranteed.

anya said...

Do they have Ritalin for dogs? I'm kidding. Milo is "spirited" - that's the politically correct term for cuckoo.
I love the look on his face in the last pic!

phairhead said...

no offense, but milo did you a favour destroying Life of Pi. that book is an abomination!

Chelsea Talks Smack said...

ohhhh nooooo haha poor thing!