I Fought The Dog. . .

And the dog won.

It isn't even my dog. It's my mom and dad's shih tzu.

When my mom told me that she was thinking of giving my dad a trip to Alaska for Christmas but didn't know what she would do with her dog, I immediately volunteered. How hard could taking care of one little 4 pound dog be?

During the day, she's an angel. Well- except for the peeing and pooping, the eating every Barbie shoe in sight, dragging random socks and underwear throughout the house and terrorizing Grendal, that is.

It's at night that the devil comes out. I assumed that since my mom sent her kennel, that the dog would actually, oh I don't know- use it. Put her in it, she whines. Take her out and put her in the gated bathroom, she barks. Take her out, shut our bedroom door and give her free reign over the entire apartment, she whines, barks, and scratches at our door.

You know what shuts her up?

Nothing.

Except me sleeping on the couch with her curled up beside me. Which I've decided to do until she goes back home. For mine and Justin's sanity.

I think the shih-tzu is the most appropriately named dog out there. At least this one is.

Mom, if you have internet access, I don't really mean this. Your angel is perfect. No problem at all. You are still taking Maddie next week, right? Love ya!