Part of family includes two large dogs, Miles and Hemingway.  The two certainly add a little madness and chaos to the mix.  Our dogs give a new meaning to greeting you at the door.  Most nights, when my keys are turning in the lock, I hear excited but heavy prancing (I do not exaggerate, the Weimaraner prances like a show horse) and then a loud thud.  I have no earthly idea what Hemingway is doing.  Maybe he’s jumping on the front door, running into it (he’s a bit of a klutz), or throws himself at it, willing it to open.  It’s probably better that I don’t know and I guess you could look on the bright side and call it a anti-theft device.

I can forgive the dogs many things the crazy greetings at the door, when my arms are full with bags, a toddler and groceries or even awful, room evacuating farts.  Our lab mix, Miles, has such bad gas that sometimes when he farts, even he leaves the room.  Seriously.  I can also overlook the fact that both dogs would really rather be laying on top of you, not just at your feet.  Or the fact, that they bark loud, often and sometimes just for giggles.  No real reason.  But the thing that drives me crazy is when they are underfoot in the kitchen.

Some people reading this might say that their unforgivable trait is the explosive bowel movements that occurred while we were on a two week vaca.  Sorry.

Last night I was making dinner and everywhere I turn, a dog.  Just a reminder, I only own two dogs, but yet they manage to be everywhere.  I scold them and make them move away from the sink only to find them right in front of the oven.  It would seem that they really just want to be near me, but that’s not true, they only want my food.  Greedy scavengers.  These two are constantly on the hunt for anything edible.  Should you unknowingly hold food too close to them or too far away from your mouth, they will snatch it.  Don’t even think about secretly trying to bust open a package of cookies, chips, anything.  They come running from all corners of the house.  Both dogs could be dead asleep and the sound of packaging makes them perk up.  Alert the media, she’s opening something that could contain food.  I’m sure it’s disappointing when they realize that whatever that package was it had NO food in it.

I mean it’s not like we don’t feed them.  But it’s not enough.  The Weim, he just wants food.  Your food, the other dog’s food, Lola’s food, any food.  Doesn’t matter.  Never ending stomach.  The lab, he really just wants your food.  So long as it’s something you would eat, he wants it.

And don’t think they won’t find a way to get food that’s left out on the counter.  We’ve resorted to putting food on top of the fridge.  Our theory is that since Hemingway is taller, he gets the food down, but Miles being the Alpha, bullies him into giving it up.

I remember the first time I discovered they were getting things down from the counter.  I had purchase a brand new loaf of bread.  When I came home that night, some unrecognizable piece of plastic was laying near their beds.  Upon closer inspection, you could see the letters “Mrs. Bair” on the part of the wrapper that was left.  It’s not like I left the bread dangling from the counter, like some open invitation.  It was shoved far in the corner and should have avoided detection.  Of course I should have caught on, when I received a call from our Alarm Company earlier that week.  Apparently, something had set off the motion detector which is set at counter top height.

Oh well, they are animals after all.  And just when you think you’ve had it, they let out a long sigh followed by a little groan like they’re carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.  They don’t know how good they have it.

Ok, so maybe they don’t have it made in the shade.