Paw Prints of the Heart

After today, Ozzie never has to worry about us forgetting him. Not us, not anyone who ever comes into our house, and not anyone who ever lives at our house after us.

Lately we (Ozzie and I) have been having a problem with muddy paws and being cooperative during the wiping of muddy paws. For those of you who are not intimately familiar with A) our backyard or B) Ozzie's complete anatomy and hair-natomy let me explain.

Our backyard, while usually lovely in the fall and summer, is a barren wasteland in the winter and that season that directly follows winter when it snows or rains and is cloudy every single day. Basically, it is a gigantic mud pit stocked full of its own natural slides and ledges so that one special dog may trollop and prance around in a full fledged adventure everyday. While I find much joy out of watching our stocky little dog bouncing around from corner to corner, chasing squirrels and letting out little grunts of happiness, I do not like to see his little paws and corresponding paw tassels (see photo to the right) caked in mud.

Every time I let him out in such muddy conditions, I realize what waits for me thereafter. And, seeing the way Ozzie tries to squeeze his wide little body through the broken screen door, head down low to ground as if I won't see him, he knows what is in store as well.

Sometimes the paw cleaning isn't that hard, and I manage to get all of the mud off in no time. Sometimes, there are problems. Once, I thought I would be smart and fill up a big bowl with water and dip his little paws in. I thought it was a great idea. Ozzie did not think so. He fought me the entire way, and I only managed to clean one paw and tassel. This made me so mad that I decided to give him a bath then and there. So, I grabbed his collar and dragged him upstairs to the bathroom. He stopped right outside the door and dug in his heels. I had to drag him into the bathroom, thus leaving a muddy skidmark behind. Then, I had to lift the 60 pound animal into the bathtub, which was not fun for either of us.

Today, was a rainy, muddy day. On top of being muddy Ozzie was pretty wet from the rain. I managed to get his front paws pretty clean, but for one second while I was repositioning the towel (hey, its a hard job for one lady to do), he escaped from me! He ran right through our dining room and living room (white carpet) and up the white carpeted stairs. I, of course, calmly and rationally chased him while screaming obscenities that no dog or baby in belly should hear. Lucky for us, by the time he made it upstairs all of the mud had worn off. Now we have perfect imprints of dog paws in our living room (see photo to the left). I have just started giving him eye contact again.

When Jake came home, I could her him downstairs talking to Ozzie.
"Were you a bad boy today Ozzie? Mama said you got mud all over the house."

I was sort of expecting Ozzie to respond to him, but then I remembered that DOGS CAN'T TALK. However, I am SURE that Ozzie understands English and a little Spanish.

I am sure that all of those who read this, are impressed to find a story about a dog, but you know, I don't really care. If you don't like it, you can suck it.