Pay attention or pay the lady at the license bureau

So you bring that new puppy home and housebreaking is going as expected. You can get the pup outside to do her business most of the time with only the occasional carpet christening.

But now it’s been nearly a week of successful toilet training and the pup has just walked over to you, made laser direct eye contact and squatted. Right there! In front of you!

What do you do?

You grab the classified ad section of your own local version of the Dayton Daily and roll it up tightly, right?

Then you smack yourself soundly on the head for not paying attention to the puppy.

It’s your own dumb fault.

When I say “you”, I really mean me, of course. Well, all of us collectively. Anyone who has raised a puppy or adopted an adult dog from a shelter.

I was reminded about this Paying Attention thing this week, when the Husband came downstairs and handed me this little nightmare.

A quick inventory of this unexpected expense: driver’s license, credit card, and a few George Washingtons. All apparently enjoyed as the morning’s nom noms.

Not pictured here are the dog biscuits that were keeping George company.

“But,” I stutter. “I had all this in my jeans pocket. The ones I wore yesterday. How…”

I get hit with the realization. They’ve finally done it.

The dogs have organized.

I’m pretty sure it was the little spotted one who pulled my jeans from where they were resting on the back of the chair. But the guy isn’t much of a felony chewer, just a low-level biscuit thief. But the pup? Well, it’s only circumstantial evidence we have here.

I question the dogs about this.

They blame the cat.

But I know, it’s on me. The mantle of shame is mine to wear.

I’m a dog owner, an experienced one at that. I know Jager uses his street smarts to supplement his kibble allowance in any way possible. And of course, I know Holly is an avid chewer of all things crunchy. Oh, how I know that.

So between me and you, this is my admission. I should know better than to leave valuable items within the reach of opportunistic dog maws. My fault, y’all.

Still.

I put Holly’s service-pup-in-training cape on her and took her with me to the license bureau to share the blame. “Look what the pup did to my driver’s license,” I cry to the clerk.

The clerk leans over the counter, smiles at Holly and in the sweetest voice berates her.

“You’re so adorable,” says the license bureau clerk.

To me she says “Sign here. It’s $25.75. Cash or check only.”

Yep, even she knows it’s my fault.

So my reminder to all you dog owners out there.

Remember to pay attention to your dogs. Or you’ll be paying somebody else for your mistakes.

Lesson learned here. Now off to the bank about replacing those Georges.