Return of The Black Pudding

Joe has an affectionate name for Flip. It's sludge butt. Now here is my disclaimer for my 3...if you have a weak stomach, stop reading.

The date: February 9th. Joe and I have just returned from a 3-day ski trip. My great friend, Diane, has stayed at the condo to take care of what she calls "the furries." Everything seemed to have gone well and I was off to another great friend's house, John M., to do some catch-up work (he's an LLM student and stays up late doing homework).

Time: 3am. Place: My kitchen. After working for 5 hours at John's place trying to catch up in the wonderful world of law, I return to my condo to get 2 hours of sleep before I have to head into the office. I open my backdoor and immediately get hit in the face with "the smell" reminiscent of and circa January 2011 of the original pudding episode.

It appeared that Flip had again gotten into something that didn't quite agree with his stomach. There, on my kitchen floor, was the black chunky pudding. Side note- Flip also eats his own poop. Yup, he sure does. However, not even Flip the sh*t-eater would touch this. So there it remained in all of its black chunky glory.

So, at 3am in the morning, using latex gloves, six plastic bags, a piece of cardboard and a gallon of bleach, cleaned up Flip's pudding. By the time it was done, 4am had rolled around so I jumped in the shower and headed to work.

By the way, Flip watched my 3am clean fest through a half-open eye from the couch. He was clearly annoyed that the lights were on and that I was interrupting his sleep. I could tell from the loud obnoxious sighs he kept giving off. After 30 minutes, he had enough and excused himself to my bedroom where he went to sleep with Joe.

Flip Goes Off The Leash

Some things you should know about my other dog Mya. She is jacked. She's 38 pounds of lean muscle. She comes on my runs with me and does 7 to 10 miles like it's a 10 minute walk. She can sprint up a mountain in 10 seconds and can outrun any deer. She is the fattest, most in shape animal I have ever seen. She also always comes back when I let her off the leash.

A quick story: When Joe and I first adopted Mya in 2009, we lived in Morristown, NJ. Within the first month of having Mya, I started taking her for walks in Morristown near a place called Fort Nonsense. It was a wooded area, away from the city, that had a neat area where I could play with Mya. I decided after having her for a month, I could try and let her off the leash. Everything went well for the first 10 minutes. Threw her some sticks, played fetch, she ran around and seemed to have a great time. Then Mya saw something in the woods and peaced out. Back then, I was not aware of her speed and she was gone in less than 5 seconds. I spent 15 minutes calling and looking for Mya before I decided I should run back to the apartment and get Joe to help look. So I took off.

Now to get back from Fort Nonsense to my old apartment, you have to take 5 different side streets and cross 2 major roads. Just as I was getting to the last major road I had to cross before I got to my apartment building, I had to stop at the traffic light. For some reason, I thought to look behind me. There, running down the sidewalk straight for me, was Mya. From that moment on, I knew I would never be able to lose her.

So, back to Flip. Ever since we had brought the crate home, all had been fairly quiet with Flip. In Bedminster, Joe and I live near a creek/river that runs through a forest so I thought I'd take both dogs for a walk off the leash there. Knowing my experience with Mya, I figured Flip would be fine off the leash as well. Haha - silly me.

We get to the woods and after I had worked my way deep into the forest and near the river, I let the dogs off the leash. Mya, like usual, hung around for a little bit before taking off after something. Flip took off after Mya. Now, something you should also know about Flip besides his "smile" - he has the longest, straightest legs you've ever seen AND he's a total klutz. Picture a gangling, awkward teenager and magnify that by a thousand and that is Flip "running" in the woods. His legs got tangled up underneath him every 10 seconds and it was all he could to do keep up with Mya the Beast. Needless to say, both dogs disappeared from view. 15 minutes later Mya came running back through the woods and found me. Flip, however, was no where to be found. I started to head the direction Mya had come, calling Flip's name. Nothing. I walked deeper into the woods. Still nothing. Finally, through the trees, I saw Flip. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth and he could barely make himself walk to me. In fact, he took at least 3 breaks along the way to sit and catch his breath. Guess Flip isn't quite in shape yet...

RIP Squirel-Rat Chew Toy

Upon returning home from our first day of leaving Flip in the crate, I discovered that Flip was not alone in the crate. Strewn throughout was tuffs of brown rat hair and what looked like a million pieces of glass. Upon closer examination, I discovered that Flip had managed to destroy the durable "non-destroyable" should "last forever" rat-squirrel. The cap to the plastic bottle was gone, the bottle was mostly in pieces and the rat-squirrel fur looked like pathetic matted hair. The apartment, however, was pristine and other than the rat-squirrel tragedy, Flip's first day in the crate was a success. I was now POSITIVE we were on the up and up with King Destructo.

PS- I wish I could post pictures. My 3 loyals would get a kick out of the rat-squirrel toy that you can buy for a thousand dollars.

Flip's "Smile" and The Crate

Before I get into "The Crate," I want to take a second to describe Flip's smile. Again, if I could figure out how to post normal size pictures, I would post a picture of Flip's smile for your enjoyment. Sometime during week 2 of Flip being home (which was coincidentally when our "issues" began) I discovered Flip's smile. By smile I mean snarl. By snarl I mean what happens when the Pitt bull side of Flip's mouth turns up around his canines and all you see is a row of 20 pointy teeth. As it turns out, whenever Flip is especially excited or happy to see you, he comes running at you with his lips pulled back and barring his teeth. The only thing that keeps you from shitting your pants as this 40 pound dog comes charging at you is the fact his tail is wagging and all he wants is a pat.

Ok, now on to the crate. I dragged Flip's ass into the nearby pet store where they fitted him with the appropriate size crate. I also bought a nice blue bed to put in said crate and a toy that looked like a brown rat-squirrel that had a plastic bottle shoved up into it. This toy was created by one of the tree huggers who figured out you can charge 20 dollars by shoving a used recycled plastic bottle into a canvas container, paint some whiskers on it and call it a pet toy and advertise it as "green" and "recyclable." Notwithstanding my nauseousness, I bought the toy because I figured that Flip would need something to do in the crate and dogs, apparently, liked the sound of plastic bottles being squeezed. The toy was also "guaranteed" to be durable and withstand "any" amount of chewing.

Back at home I assembled the crate, threw in the bedding and toys and coaxed Flip into the crate with a new rawhide. Joe and I came home later that day and all was well - except for the environmentally-friendly, durable squirel-rat chew toy...

Flip - King Destructo and Olympian Jumper

Rule of Physics: a 40 pound dog that stands over 36 inches high can jump over a stupid 3-foot baby gate.

I found this out when I returned home on Saturday, January 8th. My mom and I took my other dog to the free rabies clinic in town. As practiced the previous days, I left Flip in his gated area. When I returned home, however, I returned to an empty gated area and a destroyed living room. By destroyed I mean the last 1/3 of my once-standing Christmas tree was gone, the remaining ornaments shattered, urine everywhere and another 5 books destroyed. I promptly threw Flip into the back of my car and drove to the pet shop where I asked for a crate. NOW I was SURE all of our problems would be solved...

Buy Buy Baby

Let me preface this post by saying I do not hate children. Nor do I hate babies. What I hate, however, is parents (mostly moms) that have ZERO control over their little rats that run screaming and crying all over public places.

So, day 2 of Flip the terror destroying my rent-a-condo. I decide to go to Buy Buy Baby to buy a baby gate. I also decide that 9pm at night should be a "safe" time to go buy said gate. I was wrong. I walked into a screaming nightmare of a child-pit with kids running around on leashes or worst, free, mothers in total oblivion, and 10 year old sales people who looked like they wanted to cap themselves. After I pushed past some child screaming and yelling on the floor, I found a sales associate to point me to the baby gate section.

When I safely got to the baby gate section, I picked the first thing I saw: A gate that had a picture of a dog and baby behind bars. I grabbed the gate and ran to the cashier so I could get the hell out of dodge.

I got home feeling good that I had solved our Flip problems. The next day, me and Joe put up the gate while we were at work - SUCCESS! Flip stayed in his gated area, no accidents and no destruction. And then Flip figured out he could jump...

Is that pudding?

After the initial "incident", Joe and I decided the clear answer to our problem with Flip was more exercise and pick up the paper products from around the condo. We dutifully picked up everything and went to work, like usual, the next day. Again, at approximately 6pm, I received a text message from Joe. This time, it was simply a picture text message. The 2nd third of our still-standing Christmas tree was in shambles, a number of ornaments were now fragments of glass and Flip had decided he liked the Cinnamon-scented decorative pine cones that we kept near the fireplace.

Later that night, Joe and I went to bed early. We both had to get up before 5 and wanted a good nights sleep. At approximately 4am, Joe got up for work. At 5am, I woke up. As I always do, I checked my phone right away - I had 2 texts from Joe. The first text said "Flip sh*t all over the floor. I cleaned it up." The second text was a picture of said sh*t. It looked like black pudding. Black chunky pudding. Black chunky pudding that Joe had to pick up with cardboard.

When I opened the bedroom door, I immediately started gagging. Let me educate you, my 3 loyal readers: when a dog eats scented pine cones, what comes out does not smell like the original scent. I spent the next hour walking Flip to ensure that "everything" was "out" of his system (it wasn't). I then spent the next 30 minute bleaching every square inch of the kitchen and cross-ventilating the condo. Mind you, it was approximately 20 degrees outside. My most special memory of the morning was bleaching out the outside trash can so the garbage would actually take it away. I spent a solid 30 minutes dry heaving as I tried to get the stench out of the can. Flip watched me from the garage door like I was crazy. When I was finished, I sent out the panic email to my friends "in the know" asking for advice about Flip.

My dog friends wisely suggested a crate. I decided I was going to get a baby gate. You know - those things that stand all of 3 feet high. So I decided to go to some store that I will never return to again: "Buy Buy Baby" . . .

The Beginning - January 12, 2011

After a successful first week with Flip at home (which, by the way, is a rented condo in Bedminster, NJ - I am praying that my landlord is as internet-stupid as me and does not stumble across this post), Joe and I were excited about our new addition. Then I got the text.

At approximately 6pm on January 12, 2011, I received a simple text message from Joe: "We have a problem." A couple of seconds later, I received a picture text from Joe of what was apparently my living room. Not only did Flip have several "accidents" all throughout the downstairs, but he had destroyed the lower 1/3 of our still-up Christmas tree, ate at least a weeks worth of newspaper and had destroyed at least 2 "Book of Muscle" books from our coffee table. Joe spent the next hour cleaning up our condo while I tried to reassure him that this was normal puppy behavior and things would work out. Silly me...

Flip - aka "King Destructo"

After living with Flip (my new Shepard/Hound/Pittbull 9 month old puppy mix) for exactly 63 days, I have decided to share with the world (or the 3 people who actually read this) the CHRONICLES OF FLIP. Lets start from the beginning. . .

Sometime in March or April 2009 my husband (Joe) and I adopted our first dog - a doberman/shepard mix named Mya. (She's the black and brown dog in the pictures I will eventually post when I figure out how). Mya was a breeze from the first day. Although she had no formal training and was already 1.5 years old, she was house-trained, learned new commands within seconds and could go off of the leash. Joe and I discussed getting a second dog to keep Mya company while we were at work, but we decided to see how it went with just Mya first.

Jump forward 1.5 years later to December 2010. While perusing petfinder.com, an adorable pit mix puppy named "Flip" came across my screen. A couple of weeks later on January 4, 2011, Joe and I adopted Flip.

The first night home went nice and smooth. Joe and I left Flip home alone with Mya for 2 hours with no problem. The next day, we again left Flip to roam free while we went to work. Again, we came home to nothing out of the ordinary and enjoyed watching our 2 dogs play together. This continued for a week or so with no problems. Enter the evening of January 12....