Cecil: " Devil Dog from the Gates of Hell"

Cecil:  The Devil Dog

I'm warning you, I'm seriously stressed out here!
-Stanley Ipkiss from the movie:  The Mask

It is a really long story....

the story of how Cecil came to live with us,

but

to make it short--I'll condense it down.

We've always had a dog.

Before Cecil, we had two chocolate lab mixes that we

got out of "foster care", brothers who were in two different homes,

Hershey and Chocolate.  They are great dogs, well trained and well behaved. They are wonderful pets.

 A Christmas or two ago, my daughter Madison started begging for her very own little small dog.  (It was about the time Paris Hilton was carrying around all those Chihuahua puppies in those glittery puppy carriers).   I held my ground and continued to say, firmly

NO!!!!

Seems that worked for awhile, but then she went to visit my parents.  While she was there, she would call me every day and tell me about the puppies that grandmother and grandfather were going to buy her.  Now, I know you don't know my parents...but it really wouldn't matter if I said, No.  If she acted pitiful or dramatic...they would get her the dog and suffer the consequences so that

they would be remembered as the "good grandparents".  So while she was visiting, I get a call from her all excited saying that

grandfather had bought her a dwarf goat....OMG!!! plus a few other explicit words I'll leave to your imagination.  We live in the city.

Our yard is big but not that big.  I could just imagine the police coming because our goat had escaped and eaten someone's house or car tires or something.

I wasn't sure they were telling the truth or making it up.  She then started bargining with us.  Grandfather said I can keep it here, if you let me get a dog of my very own.  She even sent me a picture of a little brown goat taken with her cell phone.

So I half-heartedly promised a dog when she got home.....

So she gets home without the goat that belonged to the neighbor

and the whining and begging began...

please mom...you promised!

we start searching the humane society web sites...

then one day we think we've found the dog...

a cute little white dog with wiry hair and a sad face.

She goes to visit a friend and while she is away, big daddy thinking that the dog was coming to live with us, buys it a little pink dress and lays it on her bed.

I leave the house and while I'm driving down the road, I get an excited call from Madi..."Mom, where's the dog?"  "Is it a surprise?"

"I found the dress."

"Poop!-I think to myself."

I feel bad.  We check to see if the dog is available and she already has found her owner.  So Hannahtard--Madi's friend and Madison

talk me into going to "just visit" the Humane society...

famous last words.   We check the web site to see what is available and find a tiny little puppy that was so cute named Petunia.

We decide to adopt her and so we head to the shelter.

Much to our disappointment, Petunia had just been adopted...the owners were right in front of us.  She was cute, brown, tiny and oh so sweet.  We decide to look around....famous last words again...

by the time I found Madi and Hannahtard, Madison was sitting on the gross floor of the shelter and this little white and brown spotted weinerdog/jack russell mix is laying in her arms, licking all over her.

"Mom this is it..look he loves me....this is the one I want."

He wasn't really cute and then I see the sign on his cage...

"Max  dashound/jack russel mix-I remember that big daddy said no jack russells.)   I read on....

"suggest obedience training"

I looked around and was really concerned...no other cage had that message.  I say..."well maybe...let's look around."

She left his cage and "max" started jumping and begging and barking.   I tried to get her to get another one.  I made her walk and play with several others...but no she had her heart set on "Max--the dog who needs obedience training."

We get him.  He was a "return".  They didn't know why...but we do suggest that you take Max to obedience training."

So that is the story of how we came to be the proud owner of

Cecil (formally Max).

So now...

I have white dog hair everywhere at the Dog Haven Hotel...it mixes with the black from the other dogs quite well--we go through a vacuum about every six months or so.

He escapes from the fence---you think you have it fixed and he somehow manages to squeeze under and go on an adventure down the street...usually at five in the morning--he gets us up at four every morning.  He seems to have not "sprung ahead" when the time changed.  He barks anytime you don't give him the attention he wants or needs (I have a problem with needy things) and he sits on his butt and waves his paws at you...

we always tease him and

say he is saying,

Please, Please, Please.....

He chews up the rugs,

Eats his own poop,

barks at the dog who lives next door everytime it is out,

digs in the garden,

jumps on the furniture...

and

is very attatched to Big Daddy...he sits in his lap almost all the time...

I do not let him in my lap--that is probably why he bothers me all the time.

He brings his toys to me when I blog

and if I refuse to acknowledge him, he puts his head under my hand and pushes it away from the keyboard.

He really is pretty smart

but

smart is not

enough to make

up for the fact

that

he is a devil dog who beats up the labs,

eats everyone's food

and

poops under Madi's bed.

So moral of this long tale is this:

If your daughter asks for a dog......

you'd better say no!!!!

you could end up with a devil dog named Cecil

who came from the gates of Hell!

happy friday

and

hugs to all of you

we made it to the weekend.

Please, Please, Please

don't believe a word she said!!!