After school, Beck and I returned home to find a mess in the mudroom. Georgia had destroyed the throw rug and when she tired of that, she helped herself to a piece of art off the wall. It just happened to be a piece that Beck created last year after reading a biography on Barack Obama. Beck wasn't upset that his masterpiece was ruined, he just laughed and said, "I guess Georgia is a Republican." I told him not to jump to any conclusions, Georgia might just be frustrated with how Mr. Obama is handling his job as president. As long as she continues to love my Beck and not Glenn Beck, she can call my house her home (although she may be confined to her crate from here on out regardless of her political persuasions).
I'm not going to lie to you...she's driving me a little bit nuts with the chewing. Everything, and I mean everyfreakingthing, goes into her mouth. I know, I know, she's a puppy and that's what puppies do, but I grow weary. This morning I took her for a walk past the elementary school in my neighborhood. As luck would have it, there was a gaggle of children on the playground and as soon as they saw Georgia they swarmed us. A few of the (smart) kids asked if she bites before they reached down to pet her. I was loud and clear, an attempt at full disclosure, when I declared "Yes, she bites and it really HURTS because she's got teeth like a baby shark and she's not afraid to use 'em." But, that didn't stop some of the (dumb) kids who ignored my warning and entered the jaws of death. You know what? I can only do so much.
I managed to pull her away from the kids (before any skin was broken) and we continued to stroll down the street at a nice clip until Georgia literally stopped dead in her tracks. Up ahead was a child's wagon blocking the sidewalk. A small, blue, harmless plastic wagon that apparently looked like something out of a Freddy Krueger movie to Georgia. Two minutes ago she was gnawing on some poor kid's arm and now the sight of child's toy was wreaking havoc on her mental state. So I became one of those crazy dog people trying desperately to coo and cajole my poor pup into walking past the big, bad, scary wagon. I was even using that ridiculous dog voice that people use when they talk to animals, the one that registers several octaves above a normal voice. "Come on Georgia, you can do it. It won't hurt you, sweetie." But, to no avail, she was not budging. This went on for about a minute until she spotted a squirrel and took off at top speeds. Then I became one of those crazy dog owners who scream at their dogs at the top of their lungs as if they understand, "Georgia, I don't have my running shoes on, slow down or I'm going to kill myself!"
The rest of the walk was pretty uneventful. She snapped at a few falling leaves, actually catching several before they hit the ground. And she took bites at random bushes along the way, just for the hell of it. And she greeted every single person that we passed as if they were her best friend and she hadn't seen them in a year. And when we finally made it home, she was absolutely exhausted and collapsed in the mudroom.
And I did a jig.
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