“Juno. Junooooo! Juno come!  JUNO! COME!” It’s the same song every Sibe-owner probably sings when they walk off-leash with a Husky. I’m constantly recalling her as she pushes the boundaries of straying too far from us. Generally speaking, she’s not so bad off-leash, given she’s a Sibe. If I catch her body language cues in time, I can actually call her off temptation.

Yesterday, she tree’d a cat at the farms.  I missed her pre-bolt body cues and by the time I figured it out, she and Loki were in full-sprint mode. Thankfully the cat cut into the vineyards rather than into a herd of cows or a block of houses.  Loki quickly came to his senses, popped his head out of the vineyards and returned to me. As we approached the vine row she was in, I heard her scrappy excuse of a bark. Juno rarely barks “boo” to anything.  But the cat was perched on top of a wooden pole and Juno was alerting in her wee, tentative voice. She looked proud of her bad self.

“Your little girl tree’d a cat today at the farms,” I texted to Mr. Wild Dingo.

“Good for her,” he replied. “Give her two cookies!”

Do you see what I’m working with here, Internet?

Last Wednesday, I hit an all-time low in my few years as a dog-handler, dog-owner and dog-protector when Juno gave chase to a horseback rider. I wouldn’t exactly say she chased them as much as she followed them, gingerly, running along side them and stopping when they stopped and trotting when they trotted. * Loki also participated in Juno’s “bright idea” at first, but returned to me within 60 seconds after he had gotten off a few woofs. Knowing I could not correct him for coming back to me, I bit my tongue as I re-leashed him and went after Juno. For 10-15 minutes, Juno followed the horse and rider, pasture after pasture, until she finally got winded and gave up. Thank dog, nobody got hurt. Most of all, the horse or rider.

*NB: To answer Brooke’s question below: no Juno never barked or tried to bite or attack. The only thing she’s capable of attacking is a loaf of bread.

For the record, I would have never had them off-leash if I had seen the horse and rider. They literally appeared out of nowhere even after I could see for miles that there was nobody in sight.

Both dogs have been trotting off-leash for sometime now under the condition that there is no animal (wild, livestock or domestic) and no person in sight that they could potentially bother and that they recall to me when I recall them.

Here’s Juno recalling because I see a farm worker at the car up ahead.

And here they are heeling past the car.

Here they are patiently waiting to be released  as the tractor had just passed us.

On numerous occasions, they both recall out of play with strange dogs who appear off-leash and charge up to us. On those occasions when both dogs are leashed, I typically release only Loki, if it’s a big dog and neither is showing any sign of aggression, knowing that he will recall even if it takes a quick play-bow or one round of a chase game. It takes the stress-level down a huge notch for all of us when I release him when there’s a strange dog right in our faces. 

“Hey pip squeak, nose off my jodhpurs!”  
Above, both dogs had been called out of play with the little tyke who continued to harass them as they ignore him.

They’ve always recalled under those circumstances and heel by my side to pass all people and if by farms or dogs, then on-leash. 

I always wondered if Juno’s hip dysplasia was what kept her inner-Siberian at bay during off-leash walks. While I’m prepared to hear all the “I told you so’s” from all the Siberian owners, last week’s 15-minute run merely proved the opposite  since she’s never been exposed to horses or livestock before moving here. Up until now, it has not been her physical challenge but her obedience that has been keeping her from giving into her natural instinct. The unfamiliar excitement of a horse pushed her far enough to show me she can run if she wanted to.

And so the search will begin for a trainer who can help me condition obedience around livestock.

Mr. Wild Dingo constantly asks me why I even bother writing about the dogs. While he enjoys the humor, he’s put off by the boring realities of dog-handling.  Until a reader sent me this email below:

Dear Julie,

Somehow, while dog-blog  surfing, I’ve stumbled to this little gem. At first I was charmed by your (and the dogs’) wit and humour. Oh did it get me a-cackling and dare I say, LOL-ing away on the computer!

But as I kept reading, I find that your blog strikes a chord with me. Your dogs do, actually. Reading between the lines, I understand that your dogs aren’t the perfect dogs those darn Disney movies would like us to believe all dogs are. Neither is mine. And more often than not I get frustrated with her, angry with her, throw my hands in the air and give up because she isn’t the loving angel she was supposed to be.

But you! You took a higher route. Changed what could be changed and yet accepted their personality, flaws and everything. Reading your blog has thought me an important lesson in patience and more importantly acceptance.

Summer (my girl) thanks the cookie oven that I found you in the Internet sea of codes!

 Christyna

Thank you Christyna, for the kind words at just the right time. Now I know why I continue to write this blog including the good, the bad and the ugly.  Being honest about who my dogs are is half the battle. Finding serenity to accept what I can’t change about them and courage to change what I can is the other half.

“Yah but we’re betting Mom doesn’t have the wisdom to know the difference!”

First lets look at the criminal.

“What exatly do you want me to say about this Mom?”

A bold move so close to Christmas. Even for a Siberian.

As a yogi I believe that the universe sends us people and living things into our lives to reinforce our personal beliefs or teach us something.  When we were ready to rescue another dog, I refused to rescue a full German Shepherd, as much as I love the breed. I knew very little about dogs or GSDs but I believed is that GSDs were prone to hip dysplasia. And I did not want a dog with hip dysplasia. So we ended up with Loki, a GSD mix. Later the universe laughed at me, “Ha! You think getting a Siberian will keep you from facing your fears of hip dysplasia?  Here is Lovely Juno! She is here to teach you.” O.K. I get that.

But I ask you Internet, just what is the universe trying to teach me with a dog that has masticatory addictions? Perhaps that one of us needs a 12-step program?

“Mom, this is just a gentle reminder to Pop not to leave us for so long again.”
Mr. Wild Dingo had been gone all week and stuck twice in airport delays due to snow. I had to take him to work this morning and this is what I came home to. All of Mr. Wild Dingo’s notebooks and mail, masticated.

“Santa is gonna hear about this? Are you serious? But you can’t prove I did it! I mean, you didn’t even catch me red-pawed.”

“How about if I show him my better side of my pretty face?”

“What are you lookin’ so smug over there for Big Boy? It’s not like you’re perfect.”

She’s right about Loki…For example, we ran into one of Frosty’s cousins in Morges yesterday.

We didn’t catch his name but Loki something to say.

Perhaps this offense wouldn’t be so bad to dear old St. Nick, because you know, everyone knows that Frosty is a pansy anyway.

But then, while we were walking home, we ran into dear old Père Noël. And as we passed him, Loki gave him a polite sniff and we passed in peace. Then we turned around to say goodbye and this is what Loki did:

“Woof! Woof! Woof!”

He decided Père Noël looked suspicious and wanted him to know that he was watching him. Like Père Noël was the bad guy. Sigh.

But back to Juno. We had a hectic weekend. Mr. Wild Dingo lost all of it waiting at the airport in the Philippines and in Amsterdam and I spent it mopping up not one but two floods in the basement due to a burst pipe. It’s not important how that happened but suffice it to say our weekend of going to Montreaux to see the famous Christmas market was killed. And this morning while busily putting the house back together and trying to get on the bike for a quick workout,  I inadvertently took out a Buon Viando sausage and put it on the stairs to bring up to the kitchen. Only I forgot to bring it up and went ahead with my work out. After the bike, I headed up to the yoga room and then I remembered the sausage. But it wasn’t on the stairs anymore.

Here’s what a Buon Viando meat sausage looks like when it’s properly defrosting on my kitchen counter.

And here’s what a Buon Viando Sausage looks like when Siberian takes it from the stairs where I accidentally left it, opens it and eats 3/4 of it frozen, including half the plastic packaging, in the living room.

That’s two strikes against both dogs on the week of Christmas. It doesn’t bode well for them does it? The sad thing about this is we have no fireplace to use up all the coal that they will surely get in their stockings.

A nice German Swiss fella with a whole lotta tasty nommies for the furry beasts! The dogs were sure happy to see the Monsieur Meat-Delivery and barked with delight. Juno knows exactly who he is and knows exactly what the 2 freezers are in our basement. She loves to investigate the delivery and the freezers.

Those big roasts are not for us. Pas pour nous. Boo-hoo!

The cardboard box holds our raw meaty veal bones. The other cardboard box however, holding the minced chicken carcass sausages, broke. So Monsieur Meat-Delivery and I ran around collecting the run away sausages while the dogs were left to their own devices.

I came inside and happened upon a crime scene. A suspect seemed to be fleeing the scene of the crime.

A flip flop on Loki’s bed.

Now the dog’s don’t have their own beds per se, but they do more or less lay a claim and occasionally they share. Past video of Loki Woo-ing clearly show this is his bed while another crime scene of Siberian Mastications  clearly show where Juno hangs out.

“Hi Mom! I see Monsieur Deliciousness came for us! Is it all packed away and prêts à servir?

“Oh that flip flop behind me? Nope, not me. Besides, that’s on LOKI’s bed.”

It can’t be! My non-destructive GSFMD has turned to the dark side? No! Say it isn’t so!

“I was framed!”
“You snooze, you lose Big Boy.”

Juno’s back to her naughty self. Sigh.

***

Thank you all for your very helpful comments on Juno’s Cross Roads, whether they were based in experience or based in thoughtful consideration of the choices we have, it helped more than you know. Even if you didn’t experience this issue, some of you spoke to the logic and that seemed to help confirm what we will do.

We will most likely go ahead with the THR. But I have to do all my research and consultations first.  I’m sure the gold beads will help for a short term but intuition tells me this won’t last. I’m around both dogs all day long and I’m very sensitive to changes and know what works and what doesn’t. Juno seems back to more of herself and her appetite is much better. I’m certain that the vet doing the gold bead procedure won’t understand why I wanted to do both (she recommended not doing the beads and spending the money if we were going to do surgery). I’m sure she’ll think we’re wacky for doing both even if they seem to be working. The truth is, the gold beads wouldn’t do any harm and it only cost  a little more to do them and we needed additional x-rays anyway so it made sense to me to do them while we had x-rays taken. In addition, we can’t do the surgery very quickly as we’re having guests in November and December.  So it’s nice to know if they do work, at least she’ll have some pain free months while we carry on other things.

The reason for moving ahead with it even if the beads work, is that the yogi in me tells me it’s important to correct improper structure as it can only lead to more disease later on such as spinal problems. That’s just not a complication I’m prepared to deal with later on, especially since it “could” be prevented by simply correcting the structure in her movement.  Lately, Juno’s potty habits have been affected. Intuition tells me this is from low spinal issues.  When she feels good, it’s not a problem. When she has pain, well, there are problems. I can’t see doing a “wait and see” approach with Juno only because I’m starting to see small problems now that are not going to go away and most likely get worse if we do nothing. And what if the “wait and see” approach brings a complication that we can’t fix or reverse?

It’s likely we’ll do it some time in January so we can plan for recovery. I haven’t consulted yet with any surgeons. I’ll start with Dr. Vingerhoats since he’s been recommended by more than 2 other vets. I also need to bone up on THR as there are 2 types: cement and cementless. I also need to fully understand the post op recovery: some people say 4-6 weeks others say 3-6 months. I do know at the very least we will do one hip if not both (at different times).

So thank you all. You’ve been just the support we all needed at this point in our cross roads of choice! We’ll definitely keep up to date as things progress.

Rarely, do I ever catch Juno looking like or acting like a goofball, or worse, cracker. She’s much too sly for the camera to catch her looking less than perfect. But every now and then, I’m able to catch her behaving just as cracked out as Loki, who is pretty much cracker whenever he’s not sleeping. Because Juno’s muzzle is so much smaller than Loki’s, she has to pull her lips all the way back, exposing her gums in order to leverage good “bitey-face” action with Mr. Big Yapper himself, giving her the appearance of being extra cracker.  

First Juno warms up with a little flirting. She approaches the bad boy and moves her head side to side sweetly:

“Hey handsome, how about a little bitey action?”

“Sugar lips, you don’t have the equipment to take on bitey-face with me!”

Then she’s had enough and the crackerness begins:

“Hey Daddy-O, it’s git-down time.”

“Bring it on Cupcake!”

“Hold onto your chair and don’t step on no snakes, baby.”

Don’t let her big gum and fang shots fool you, she’s just kidding… I think.

“Hit the bricks buster! That territory is off limits.”

“Now you’re just cruisin’ for a bruisin’ Big Boy!”

“Awe…geez! You’re all over me like a cheap suit!”

“Ya? So, how do you like them apples?”

“I’m gonna open up a can of whoop-ass on your keister, Big Boy!”

“That’s right Big Fella. Who’s your Momma?”

“Cupcake, you’re so cute when you’re tough.”

“I’m so over it.”

“Ready to go again, studly?”

Clearly these two find unpacking too exhausting and decide a nap in the sun is just the ticket.

Same dogs, same tricks, different country. Gotta love our “quality” rent-a-furniture.

Thank Dog for obedience! When our first set of contractors came over to discuss mandatory changes to the house to comply with the canton and country codes, of course I tried to lock them in a room. I completely forgot they can open doors and out they came, with a little cracker hello. Loki usually spends about 30 seconds with his rough tough manly barking “There’s an intruder! An intruder,”  before I’m able to get out my skillet and beat him into submission quieting down.  Seriously though, thank dog for the two years of obedience as I’m able to put them both on down-stays in the kitchen so I can chat with the contractors throughout the house and they don’t need to be bugged by a cracker dog and a wiggly husky.

“Hey Princess, why does this feel like jail if the doors are all open?”
“At least its the kitchen. Shut yur yapper. Maybe I’ll get a treat for this.”

Our neighbors invited us for coffee last Sunday. They have three children, who speak FIVE freaking languages (while all I can say “bun chore”), that love dogs and they wanted to meet them. After coffee, we went to retrieve the dogs. Juno slipped her collar just outside the front door and ran for the street. Thank Dog for obedience once again. Juno come! She flipped around and came right back to us for her no-slip collar. Juno greeted them with proper wiggles and wags, while Loki greeted them with barks, then yips of excitement. Rules are rules and Loki had to wait until his yapper was closed before he got to go meet them officially up close.  Later, they both obliged the children with many tricks and proper behavior. The little girls seemed to fawn over Juno while the little boy seemed enchanted with Loki.

After a good long meet and greet, we came home to this:

Hmm… funny, I don’t remember leaving my shoes like this.

By now, Internet readers, you must think I let my dog destroy my shoes for pure Internet entertainment value. I mean, it happens so much, clearly I can’t be this dumb, right? Let me assure you, I’m not independently rich and cannot  afford to buy new shoes every time I have writer’s block.  Besides, it was Mr. Wild Dingo who left the bedroom door open and there isn’t a single closet in this house.  These are brand new shoes. I’m now down to 1 pair of sneakers and 2 pairs of flip flops. Seriously. I can’t go on like this.

“It looks much better with a little white in it to match my natural loveliness, don’t you think mom?”
Damn Sibe.

Mr. Wild Dingo pointed out that Juno was kind enough to leave me at least 2-intact shoes on either foot that I can wear:

I’m thinking I can claim that this is all the rage in the US. Besides, the Swiss are not exactly known for their fashion trendiness. They’ll never know!

In the mean time, Juno has taken to “the drink” to replace her need for shoe masticatory rages:

“So light! So refreshing! Just the thing one needs to wash down all that shoe leather.”

“I found these like this.”

All the rooms in this house have doors, including the living room and kitchen. We basically shut all the doors except the kitchen and “dog room” and leave them to the foyer, dog room and kitchen. Seems safe enough, right? Well, until Mr. Wild Dingo forgets to take his sunglasses off the window sill where the dogs love to watch us come and go.

“Nobody needs this many pairs of sunglasses mom. I’m helping Pop out here.”

“And this pair? Let’s just say I did him a huge favor here. The style is so five-minutes ago!”

To punish her, I took her and Loki on a long walk through the farms and vineyards. We got to see goats, donkeys and more horses. I got stung by a bee. Teaches me to punish a Sibe I guess.

Later, I rushed out of the house to go do some errands. The parking situation completely stressed me out. There’s more room to park a Hummer in a pack of sardines than there is to park a Smartcar in a Swiss parking spot. If I gain 3 more pounds I won’t be able to get out of any parked car in Switzerland. It took me 10 minutes to park in a spot, shuffling the car back and forth while a polite person behind me waited.

I came home completely exhausted from the ordeal. (O.K. so I’m jet lagged too. Anything is going to exhaust me.) And I came home to find this:

“Mom, I know you’re really upset that you can’t get the wireless router working so I let Linksys know how Siberians feel about technology that doesn’t work.”

Ooops. Looks like I forgot to shut one of the living room doors (there are two).  Sadly, this is not her first Suisse masticatory destruction/mischief. Her first mastication was with a bottle of T-9 bike lube in the basement. So now the nice cool basement is off limits to the Sibe.

I sure hope Mr. Wild Dingo doesn’t need to return that router.

“The unexamined book is not worth reading. But it sure is worth chewing.“

It’s true that I hadn’t really read the book and it was officially ‘unexamined.’  But I’m pretty sure Socrates didn’t say quite those words.

“Thou shall live to chew, not chew to live.”
“Princess, that’s deep!”

Hmmm. That sounds like Socrates, but I’m pretty sure that’s not quite right either.

“How about this:  Employ your time in improving yourself by other men’s writings, so that you shall gain easily what others have labored hard for. ”

Leave it to the Sibe to twist a great philosopher’s words to get her out of her masticatroy mischief.

“Princess,  are you sure he didn’t mean ‘reading’ other men’s writings, not ‘eating’ other men’s writings?”
“Doofus, the only true wisdom is in me knowing that you know nothing.”

Now she’s just showing off.

As I began to chew her out for her chew-out, she came back with sound Socratic logic:

“Get not your friends by bare compliments, but by giving them sensible tokens of your love.”

Don’t think that philosophy is going to get you out of the deep trouble you’re in young lady! Chewing my book is so not a token of love!

 ”Life contains but two tragedies.
One is not to get your heart’s desire; the other is to get it.”

 Well, at least she learned something.

“Nothing says “I missed you” like pillow entrails. I cared enough to shred the very best.”

I was in Luasanne, Switzerland house hunting for our move this past week. Loki and Juno’s personal chef, entertainer and companion kept me updated on how they handled being without me. “Loki and Juno are doing so well! They’re so well behaved,”  wrote Diane in her e-mails, “I’m going to miss them and I would love to come to Switzerland just to pet sit them!”

Um, sure Diane. And shredding pillows is considered “behaved” in what universe?  Are you sure you want to pet sit them again? Figures they saved the pillow mess just for me. Nobody ever believes me when I say these two are trouble.

“I had nothing to do with this Mom! Swear to dogs!”

Loki and Juno met Diane the week before I left and hit it off with her just fine. Loki even let her take his leash, something he never stands for when I’m around. Dog-forbid anyone but his Mom be attached to him. When Diane left, I warned her that Loki will definitely appear intimidating on her first day. “He’ll bark and act like a cracked-out Cujo ready to eat you,” I told her. “Oh I’m not intimidated by him,” Diane assured me. “He’s quite sweet.”  I smiled knowingly to myself.

Diane’s first email to me read something to the tune of: ”I must admit, I was quite apprehensive approaching the gate with Loki barking aggressively and was a bit intimidated.” Sigh. Do I know my cracker-dog or what?

Loki  has two greetings: Cracked-Out-Cujo, and “I’m your BEST friend in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD!”  By the 3rd visit, they were best pals and Diane wrote: “Loki and I are buddies. Period. He follows me everywhere and I can play with him quite roughly very confidently.” Sigh. Just as expected.

I’m not sure if Juno ever warmed up to her more than approaching her quickly then bouncing away, but at least she wasn’t rude enough to pull a Cujo on her.

I’ll have more later this week with photos from the trip and of the Wild Dingo Estate Abroad. Regardless of the pillow mess, it was great to be home among the endless kisses. 

In the mean time, which one looks guilty to you, Internet? Let me give you a hint. And another hint. And another hint. And, sigh, another hint.

“SHE started it mom!”
“I resent the biasness I am being treated with. Prior convictions have no bearing on this case.”

“Hey sugar lips. Looks like I got you behind the eight ball. Are you going to make a move?”
“You must be cruisin’ with your lights on dim if you think you have me cornered.”

“Put an egg on your paw and beat it big boy or I’ll smack you down!”
“Baby, it gives me a large charge when you get mad.”

Hmmm… that looks vaguely familiar.

I wonder if Mr. Wild Dingo brought home this new garden art piece, “The Headless Husky?”

“Did someone call me?”

“Retardo, I’m so gonna send you on a deep six holiday.”
“But, I was just doing my job! You know, Search and Rescue a Husky!”

Um, I’m not falling for it.

Postal

Gardener

Mad Cobbler

Cracked Out

Uninsurable

Masticatory Addict

Toof Addict

Passport Eater

Bully

Yup. I’m no fool. Or … am I?

“I have no idea what you are referring to, Mom. I found these shoes like this.”

“Ah Principessa! You’re the “naughty dog” for once! The shoe is on the other foot. Err,  rather its in your bellllaaaay! Tee-hee!”
“Stuff it big boy. Evidence is circumstantial. Nobody saw me do it. That is, if you ever want to see your favorite blankey again, then nobody saw me do it.”

Sigh.For all the shoes that Juno has eaten in our house (honestly, I lost count, but I’m down to 2 pairs of Danskos and I had 5 pairs of them), she really does have some redeeming qualities. And thank DOG for that.

You see, she actually is a rare Siberian. They don’t make Siberians like this one. She actually enjoys training. I swear to Dogs! You’ll have to just see for yourself!

THE FIRST SIBERADOR RETRIEVER

Here she is learning to retrieve! Yes, you read it here first: a Siberian Husky who retrieves! The truth is, Juno actually learned to pick up the dumbbell faster than the dumbbell himself, err, I mean the GS/FMD working dog himself, Loki. She put her mouth around it the first chance she saw it and never stopped learning to take it further. Again, I can’t tell you how hard it is to do a true retrieve with a dog. And to do it with a Siberian, well, it just makes me verklempt!  Here she is first learning to pick up the dumbbell:

Did you see her wagging her tail? She loves this stuff! And unlike Loki when he first learned to bring me an object he’d throw the object at me, Juno instinctively placed it in my hands, gently. One time, she even kissed me before her reward! She must have a bit of Labrador in her. Moosh would have loved her!

And here she is stepping up her game in her retrieve work outside. She starts to pick it up off the ground and bring it to me. Plus, she actually manages to walk away from me to get the item and bring it back to me. A true retrieve!

And finally, here is Juno doing some more off-leash heeling work. You can see the Siberian come out in her here when she decides to offer up other behaviors.  She’s so playful about it, it’s hard not to giggle along and reward her for it!

Hmmm… I wonder if I can get her to retrieve my Danskos? What do you think Internet? Should I be so bold to teach her to put my shoes in her mouth? Or do you think she’s already mastered that part?

“These vet bills were mailed third class! I ain’t comin’ on that tab.”

Got it. But what’s the deal with going postal on the rest of the mail?

“I know. It looks like a first class disastor. But I have no idea how this happened. If I’m lyin’ I’m flyin’.” 

Um, Juno, by the looks of that propeller tail, you’re about to take off so that must mean …

“Look, I ain’t saying you’re wrong, but I ain’t saying you’re right either. Why don’t you bug ‘ole Motormouth back there with all your questions?”

Anticipating Juno’s accusations, Loki parked himself far away from the scene of the crime.

“I don’t know beans about this crime, Mom. My paws are clean!”

For the record Internet, I’ve left Loki home alone in the entire house many times, and have always come home to a neat and orderly home: nothing chewed, eaten or destroyed. Still, whenever Juno pulls this stunt, he keeps far away from the detsruction but acts remorseful as if he’s sorry for not being able to stop her naughtiness.

Sigh. Never a dull moment at Wild Dingo.

“I’m juuuusssst lookin’.”

For the record (and this is for The Herd and a certain someone at The Herd Annex), Juno only counter-surfed once early on in living with us. It took one big “No!” to never have her attempt it again. Well, at least when I’m in the house.

“Hole? What Hole? I don’t see no hole.”

“I elect to invoke my 5th Ammendment Rights. The right to be utterly cute and fluffy in the face of suspicion.”

Circumstantial evidence was found between the defendant’s paws and on her nose.  At 12:58 p.m. on Friday, June 12, 2009, Juno Belle Starling was found guilty by reason of ridiculousness.  A jury of her “peer,” whose paw is shown in the above photo, remains anonymous to protect his identity. Juno was convicted and sentenced to attend obedience class on Saturday morning with Mr. Wild Dingo as well as a Sunday morning of community service at Aegis assisted community living center in Soquel, where she provided entertainment in the form of rolling over, high-fiving, sitting pretty and general Husky charm to the residents.

We have a husky overvault in the main terminal causing a husky outage.  The safety door has been compromised. There’s also a Q-tness factor that makes it difficult to correct the husky outage. Mission Control, what’s your response?

Houston: Beat the Husky.

Loki and I came home from school today to yet again to another Husky rampage. We thought Bitter Yuck and some fixes to the screen would surely keep her contained. She obviously has  a immunity to Bitter Yuck. She broke through the screen. She also destroyed Scott’s lath that he had been building to keep her contained in the yard. Sigh. I guess it’s back to the crate.  So by the time she’s three she’ll only have gums left in her mouth. 

 Never EVER trust a Husky alone in or around your house.

“I have NO idea what you’re talking about. But my cuteness is frequently underappreciated.”