Running from Crazy Town

People run for all sorts of different reasons - to lose weight, to combat stress, to stay healthy.  I run for a combination of reasons, but some days it's to get out of my house and away from the combined 200 pounds of dog. My dogs are INSANE. Totally crazy. If you've been to my house you know what I'm talking about. Murphy, our Golden Retriever, is 116 pounds, and Izzy, our Portuguese Water Dog, is 85 pounds. When it's just my husband and me at home, they are sweet, loving, passive creatures. I swear. Take them in public or bring a visitor to the house, and it's all over.

This is the face of adorable/crazy.
Last week I dropped the dogs off at the groomer around 7:30 in the morning. When I opened the door, there were four other dogs with their owners in the waiting room. Izzy, who loves other dogs, immediately starts clamoring to get to them by barking and pulling me. At this point I realize that the wedges I am wearing, while adorable, have zero traction. It's everything I can do to stand. Murphy loves to sit on the padded bench in the waiting room. While Murphy is sitting in the human seats and Izzy is pulling me off my feet, the door opens behind me and another customer comes in with his pooch. It was seriously like something out of a bad dog movie.

John Grogan has nothing on our house
I moved to the counter where they help people and was literally holding onto the far side of the counter while pulling my dogs in with the other hand. Then the receptionist asks me to sign a form. I looked at her, exasperated, and said, "Really?" I managed to scribble something like my signature and gratefully gave away my dogs for them to take back.

They had slightly calmed down at that point, but during their walk back to the grooming area Izzy took the opportunity to stick her whole mouth into the ear of a beautifully groomed, show dog quality Golden Retriever and drool all down her face. I managed to mutter an apology to the dog's owner before hastily retreating outside. I was sweating worse than I do after a short run.

This is a real scene we came home to last year. Seriously.
After a few days have gone by and my dogs are being sweet and well-behaved at home, the story seems funny and I think maybe it wasn't really that bad. Last night my in-laws came for dinner, and my poor mother-in-law was mauled by Golden/Portie love. Lovely. The dogs had to stay in the basement for the duration of the visit.

Do not trust this seemingly innocent face.
Some people run with their dogs, and sometimes I run to get away from mine. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love my pups, but they are a handful. My house is truly nuts. That would make me what, the city manager of Crazy Town?
 

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