Actually, I have way too many funny dog stories but I will try to remain on one track. Wait, there will be some back story going on too because, well, you'll see.
We have 2 large dogs, a lab and an aussie something or other. Labs are apparently very high strung animals and when I say high strung I mean Rocky has an LSD crazy spazzoid type personality. We were at a park where Bob would take his baseball bat and fire the ball as far as I could see. The dogs loved it because there was a stream so they would run for bear and them come crashing back and tidal wave into the stream. We had been there for about a half an hour one day and Rocky wasn't slowing. (Cody, however, is a lazy dog (he's mine) and would run half way, wait for Rocky to return, jump him, get the ball and run back like a conquering hero). A man walks by and laughs, 'those labs, eh. He's obviously young, they calm down by the time they turn 5.' At the time Rocky was 4 and I almost did a jig thinking about how he would become one of those well behaved dogs who lay by the fire.
Rocky is now 13 and he can still jump in the air and do a complete 360. He's slower to get up nowadays but throw a ball and he's a pup again. We just don't throw it for long - we were told a lab would kill itself because they won't stop. So we stop for him.
So there you go, Rocky is a spaz and well, Cody, he lives to be his older brother. Spazzoid number 2. People have cried out in fear just hearing the dogs tear up the stairs. I have been knocked on my butt more times than I care to admit and even Bob, who is no small guy, has been pulled off his feet by Rocky. (Note to self, tell the snow bank story later)
Rocky has shown Cody every bad habit he has and one of those habits is eating furniture.
Take a minute.
I mean an entire piece of furniture, fabric, stuffing, wood. Yep, they ate a loveseat in a week. Bobby said it was okay because he told them it was their furniture. Yeah, I'm sure they can figure out their stuff from our stuff! One of these days I will take pictures of the french doors that we lay sideways to keep the dogs out of certain rooms so they don't eat something that will kill them. They are mounted permanently so that we have to throw our legs over everytime we go to sit in front of the TV.
As bad as Rocky is - he ate through drywall twice, Cody is even worse. Cody has eaten a TV remote (we forgot to put it up high so it was our own fault) an empty can of pop - he shredded it into the smallest pieces I had ever seen, the vet couldn't believe that he did it without cutting his mouth, a throw pillow - he puked and pooped that puppy for a week, a bag of rags (we have no idea where he got it from, bars of soap - we figured this out by the bubbles on his...well you know.
We had been renovating our house for a while and finally got to the downstair bathroom. And it was beautiful. About a year later we realized that the dogs had figured out how to get into the bathroom, even with the door closed. (Rocky, in his anxious moments needs to crawl into the shower - I asked the doc for some meds but she said not to worry - uhm, yeah, so Rocky is also like me) So we buy a special throw bolt that we latch when we leave the bathroom so that Rocky and Cody can't get in - Cody had started to eat the linoleum flooring.
All's well and good and the bathroom becomes ours again so bottles aren't exactly put out of dog reach (seriously, it's like having perpetual toddlers in the house). One day one of us forgets to throw the latch and we come home to find that Cody has picked up some of the bottles of shampoo and eaten the tops off. He stopped at that point, which was good. Not so good was the bottle of baby oil. Apparently it tastes like crack and Cody ate the whole bottle - not the plastic part, just all the yummy oil. Now, I'm not so bright about this stuff but I figure, he's survived worse so we'll wait it out.
A couple hours later we come in and there are all these oily patches on the wood floor. Huh, I wonder what that is. Cody is sitting there and he looks funny. He gets up and the fur on his butt looks wet. Uh, oh. Cody is tooting and the toots are not air but, baby oil. I have never seen anything so funny as Cody's face ever time he tooted. He kept looking at his behind like it belonged to something else. He has these big brown eyes and he would look so bewildered and I couldn't help but laugh. Oh, just like this!
I gave it a day and then took him outside (it was winter) and quickly soaped up his behind to get the oil out and then dryed him off. I tell ya, the fur on his butt was standing straight out. Problem? By that night it was matted with oil again. It took a week for the oil to leave his system and his oily butt prints on the deck outside were enough to get me laughing all over again. Cody didn't think it was funny.
Remember how I said baby oil is like crack for dogs? Can you believe two years later he got into the stuff again? He only ate a bit this time before I found him. There's enough weird stuff emanating from our dogs, I don't need another baby oil incident!
Hey, have I told you about how Cody chews on rocks?