What was I just posting a little while back about my poor dog and how neglected he is? And how he wants to run away from us? And how guilty/sad that makes me? Pssh to that.
Today I left to run to the bank and after the bank I was going to take the kids (Sawyer and Bruno, that is) on a walk around the neighborhood. I came home, and walked in to get the dog and his leash.
Allow me to set the scene:
-One bag of brown sugar ripped open on the kitchen floor
-One wide eyed dog ON THE COUNTER, crouched over a canister of baby formula, with his mouth covered in brown sugar crystals
-One fuming mad mama
Bruno's ability and obsession with getting on the kitchen counters is something we discovered shortly after we got him. He can jump from a sedentary position onto the counters without breaking a sweat (or a leg). No matter what tricks we tried to break him of this habit, nothing works. So we've gotten into the habit of putting away anything even remotely edible, but sometimes we forget and come home to big messes and often, a sick dog.
I've met my breaking point. One disobedient dog available to a good home.