Maddie, the 14-month-old terror is, well, a problem dog. (Okay, maybe I'm a problem owner, but, let's hold all judgment until the end...)
Casualties in this terrible battle thus far? To name a few, three cherry cabinet doors. One bathroom wall. One wall in our hallway. Two walls in the living room, and three in the dining room. Not to mention, hair everywhere. When you take her out at night -- you know, when it is dark, scary, and you're wishing you packed your pepper spray on your way out the door? That is when she finds it most suitable to take six hours to take a shit because she found the perfect twig to gnaw on. The list goes on...
I know, by now you're all probably wondering -- so why haven't you killed her yet?
And trust me. Most days, I wonder the same thing. And dream of happier times where I can wake up to a world where Maddie don't live here no mo'. Oh, and where riding your bike on the road is punishable by my front bumper. But, I digress.
However, there is this one thing, one minor detail that no one seems to take into account... I really and truly believe that Maddie is... special. Seriously. I think she is actually mentally challenged. A special needs dog. No joke.
Don't feel bad for her, though. This very affliction is saving her life. ;)