Where this becomes the "living with the dog blog"

The dog made it to town alright. I wasn't home when it arrived. When I got here I found the crate with the lid off, and the dog huddling in the corner looking shell-shocked. Everyone was sitting around staring at it. I was later told that Dad had tried to shake it out of the crate at the airport, but it wouldn't budge. No wonder it was freaked. I went to hold my hand out to it and my sister screamed at me, "DON'T TOUCH IT IT WILL BITE YOU!!!!" I couldn't even step close to the dog without being yelled at. I left with Heather and Leah to eat sushi and take photos for World Pinhole Photography Day.

When I got back, the only real improvement was that my sisters had gone. Somehow it got out of the crate and was now huddled in a corner behind a table. Dad went out to get some hamburgers for dinner. I knew that it couldn't go on like this. I grabbed the leash and slowly went up to it. I held out my hand and it gave it a sniff and a lick. I asked it if it wanted to go for a walk, and it immediately perked up. I leashed it and we went for a walk around the back yard. It was jumping and looking so happy. Damn! It's going to think I'm the nice guy. Dad got home and the dog went up to him to make friendly as well.

The papers that came with the dog say it was crate trained and well on the way to being house trained. I somehow doubt this. It doesn't really matter though, because dad will have nothing to do with the crate. I put the dog in the crate every night before bed, but dad lets it out first thing in the morning. This means that I'm woken up at 5:30 every morning when dad leaves to take his swim and the dog starts screaming, wailing, and spraying piss all over the house. This was especially fun on Tuesday when I had to help a friend move with only four hours sleep, then had to come home and wash and deodorize all the floors because my mom is too stiff and sore to do it and my dad couldn't be bothered. (I told my stay-at-home sister to do it, but the bitch hung up on me.) I think I'm going to start sleeping with my earplugs.

The poor thing just got fixed today. Dad seems to think there was some rush to get it done. Personally, I think we should have waited at least a couple weeks for it to calm down first, before putting it through that stress. But my opinion counts as shit with my family. It pissed on my lap on the drive back from the vet, (dad wouldn't hear any talk of us putting it in the crate for the trip,) but I don't mind; these things happen. I just wish I didn't feel so wiped out by this whole experience.