Yesterday, while I was rushing out the door for a doctor’s appointment, my Shiba Inu/Terrier mix named Rusty, decided to battle my command, “Go in the crate“. Instead of going in peacefully as he usually does–I’m lying, he always fights me!–he decided to give me crap and ran around the dinning room table.
In a split second, I lost my cool and ran to the garage to get the broom. I chased his little a-hole for two or three minutes around the table until I stopped and flipped him off. He stared at me like saying, “You are lucky I don’t have hands, woman!“
I put the broom back in the garage, and when I came back in to set the alarm, guess who was inside his crate? I closed the little gate and told him, “Bye baby” and headed to the car. When I got in, I saw my little man in the back seat playing with one of his Rescue Bots. Thank God he didn’t hear or see anything. I have a lifetime to screw him up. Now, I learned two valuable lessons from Rusty.
First, no matter how crazy we behave in front of the people we love, there is always a chance for forgiveness if we are willing to eat our pride. And second, I am going to try the broom with my husband and my son. Who knows, they might clean up after themselves on their own.
Thanks for reading and sharing.
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