Stamina And Determination
Friends are prone to think of me as a quitter, one who begins projects but does not carry them to completion. Those friends are not entirely right and here's my evidence...the doggy litter box. Yes, I meant doggy, not catty.
I live under the stern rule of a chihuahua, Porque Choppe. She does exactly what she pleases about every thing that occurs to her tiny little mind. She makes no accommodation. In our relationship, it is I who move over. I sleep on the thin edge so the chihuahua can have the whole middle of the bed, this in spite of the fact that the chihuahua actually only needs about one square foot of space. I drag my unwilling, anti-athletic self around the neighborhood because the chihuahua likes to sniff other people's lawns. I learned how to type with a chihuahua in my lap because the chihuahua feels entitled to sit on me. I who am too lazy to even carry my groceries into the house must carry a chihuahua every place I go, simply because she doesn't allow me out of the house without her. You see how this works, right?
However, there is one area of our lives where I simply refuse to budge, where it's my way or the highway. It's about potty time. I am absolutely committed to the notion of a doggy litterbox. This in spite of the fact that Porque Choppe will only go into her litterbox when she has no choice. I must pick her up and set her there or she won't go. Porque and I have gone about five hundred rounds over this issue and I have made zero progress. Not any. Porque isn't having it. I don't care. This is the hill where I plant my flag. Right there in that litter box, darn it. I may have spent $3,000 for the softest latex mattress in the world to be allowed only the thin edge of it. I may have carpel tunnel syndrome up to my shoulders from typing over a chihuahua. I may toil for miles around my neighborhood, dragged by a madly sniffing chihuahua. I may not be allowed to go to the mall without carrying the chihuahua. Yes, yes. I admit it. I'm a slave to a dog smaller than a football. But...I will not throw away the litter box and I will keep on trying to get Porque to go in there by herself. Yes, this house is filled with projects I haven't and won't finish, but before I expire, I expect to litter box train that little dog. It's going to happen. On this one issue, I have unlimited reserves of stamina and determination.
chihuahuas pets dog+litter+box potty+training dogs
I live under the stern rule of a chihuahua, Porque Choppe. She does exactly what she pleases about every thing that occurs to her tiny little mind. She makes no accommodation. In our relationship, it is I who move over. I sleep on the thin edge so the chihuahua can have the whole middle of the bed, this in spite of the fact that the chihuahua actually only needs about one square foot of space. I drag my unwilling, anti-athletic self around the neighborhood because the chihuahua likes to sniff other people's lawns. I learned how to type with a chihuahua in my lap because the chihuahua feels entitled to sit on me. I who am too lazy to even carry my groceries into the house must carry a chihuahua every place I go, simply because she doesn't allow me out of the house without her. You see how this works, right?
However, there is one area of our lives where I simply refuse to budge, where it's my way or the highway. It's about potty time. I am absolutely committed to the notion of a doggy litterbox. This in spite of the fact that Porque Choppe will only go into her litterbox when she has no choice. I must pick her up and set her there or she won't go. Porque and I have gone about five hundred rounds over this issue and I have made zero progress. Not any. Porque isn't having it. I don't care. This is the hill where I plant my flag. Right there in that litter box, darn it. I may have spent $3,000 for the softest latex mattress in the world to be allowed only the thin edge of it. I may have carpel tunnel syndrome up to my shoulders from typing over a chihuahua. I may toil for miles around my neighborhood, dragged by a madly sniffing chihuahua. I may not be allowed to go to the mall without carrying the chihuahua. Yes, yes. I admit it. I'm a slave to a dog smaller than a football. But...I will not throw away the litter box and I will keep on trying to get Porque to go in there by herself. Yes, this house is filled with projects I haven't and won't finish, but before I expire, I expect to litter box train that little dog. It's going to happen. On this one issue, I have unlimited reserves of stamina and determination.
chihuahuas pets dog+litter+box potty+training dogs
1 Comments:
You feel you have untapped reserves. That may be true. However, I feel that Porque's untapped reserves are absolutely vast. I think we may be in a "I have not yet begun to fight" situation here, with this dog. She is... well... let's just see. This may be the epic battle of the century!
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