Orson is about a year and half old and recently we decided to start trusting him by leaving him out of his kennel while we went to the grocery or for quick trips. Each time we came home, we'd make a big deal of touring the house asking "Ok Orson, how'd you do? Chew anything up?" as he bounced around our feet, panting with excitement, sure we were going to be so proud of him. And he always did a great job!
Kenai would trail behind us, probably rolling her eyes at his efforts to be cute and win all our love and attention. We call her our Goth Girl sometimes, she's way too mature for goofy Orson and totally acts like his too cool teenage sister. Although, we often catch a peak of her laying on her bed, sweetly tolerating Orson as he playfully chews on her ears and things. They're a hilarious pair.
Last thursday was a big day for Mr. O as DK had decided he was ready to go a whole day free of bars, he even packed up his kennel and put it away in the closet. DK was leaving to visit our family in Pittsburgh and as we headed out the door for the airport, I overheard him talking to Orson, ruffling his big ol' block head and telling him "Alright buddy, I know you can do this." To say my heart melted is an understatement. Then he said a sweet goodbye to Kenai and we shut the door.
When I returned home that night, it was as if no dogs had been there all day! No rugs messed up, no chewed up anything. But little by little, day by day, we're finding evidence that maybe our sweet little bubsie is totally falling to temptation and taking full advantage of his freedom.
While it's not unusual to find him or his footprints in the bathtub, (he's a Lab, can you blame him?) I'd never before found the chunky metal bathtub stopper on the living room rug. And my razors? He loves to chew the handles. I found debris littered around our loft and finally figured out it was one of my MAC eyeshadows he'd devoured. And he LOVES paper.
What's even funnier is now when DK gets on to him about these things, talking sternly and pointing his finger, Orson is quick to hide behind me, tail wagging. Somehow I think I'm officially the designated pushover? And while Orson hides behind me, you'll catch Kenai with her ears back and tail between her legs, sneakily crawling to safety, making you wonder what her contribution to the crime was!
So tonight, DK found his pile of loot (torn paper, another of my razors - fortunately he's not interested in the blade) on my rug and had to punish him.
Behold, the Guilty Orson.
And the Indifferent Teenager, Kenai.