Insane Pup
I don't know what to do about Farrah's 8pm witching hour. She is really the best pup--all day, she's either chewing on a toy, napping, playing joyfully with me, obediently going outside to pee, or working on training exercises. She is nailing "sit" and "down," and today we started "stay." She's so sweet and cute etc etc etc. And yet. Come 8pm, right in the heart of bedtime, when I'm already tired and stretched to the max trying to herd two children to bed, she completely unhinges. I mean--she is nuts. Running around the upstairs at top speed, yipping and growling, trying to jump on us and basically eat our arms and faces. It's insane. Insane. Tonight, Greta valiantly tried throwing a million toys for her, but Farrah was beyond toys. She was almost airborne. I had to finally stop reading to the girls and take Farrah downstairs. Of course there was still bedtime stuff to do, so I penned her into the kitchen with baby gates and went ...