Saturday, June 03, 2006

Max.....and the Max Potty Project

I just figured I would go ahead and solidify my reputation as a transcription service owner/quilter who is just a tad eccentric.....or as my "son" Patrick would say, "one can short of a six pack", or something like that.....I forget.

This would be a story about the Big Max himself......he is a Lab/Shepherd mix who was severely abused as a puppy (its really obvious in his behavior, around men in particular), rescued in traffic by my husband and Laurie (the youngest) and through a comedy of events.....came home with them briefly (after biting Michael during a panic attack in the traffic), ran away by scaling a fence while we attempted to find his owner, was dragged home from traffic again by my other daughter Karen who said "its a sign" when I recognized him and let him in.....eventually we found the owner who didn't really want him and called us up and said "we could have him or he was going to the pound." I bit my tongue, did not hurt them, picked Max up and brought him home to attempt to find a suitable place for him. My husband, unfortunately, had fallen in love with him......and instead of us finding him a home, we ended up making him a home. This was a predictable outcome.....Michael falls in love with anything of the canine species.

I am not a dog person. Explain to me how someone who Does Not Like Dogs ends up with four of them. Shut up, I know I'm a doormat, er, I mean codependent, or something along that line.
Any way, this would be the Big Max, outside my office door. He stays there guarding me.....I should be touched by this, and I am, until I trip over him.....then its kind of annoying....

Max is big, Max is loud. Max is a wuss. The beeping of a dying smoke alarm battery will put him into a panic attack, during which he tears down curtains and tries to climb out of the window OVER the kitchen sink....

Yes, you read that correctly.

Max of course, has to pee. Only he's turning my entire lawn into a toxic waste site. Well, all four of them are, but he is especially toxic. So today, he got his very own toilet.

I started with this area on the side yard of my house, which in 13 years of living here has never been landscaped properly.....hence the bare slope except for ONE successful ivy geranium which I have ignored and against all odds, continues to live:

(and thanks to Karen and Patrick who helped me above and beyond the call of duty...)

And thanks to much dancing and cavorting on the chosen spot and careful placement of anti-weed tarp (like anything would survive his usage) and gravel,

We ended up with this:

Max came out, sniffed it, and promptly peed somewhere else. That figures!

Plan B may be executed in the dead of night. Patrick said he might volunteer to do what all little boys love to do.......go pee outside. He figured if he used Max's potty maybe Max would get the idea after that! (Now you know entirely too much about my weird dysfunctional family!)

Fast forward a few days....All of this actually took place earlier this week (well, except Patrick's Plan B - we had not stooped to that level just yet...) And today, I am happy to report, after pulling the hydrant over to the area RIGHT BESIDE THE GRASS.....Max used the hydrant!!!

Plan C. I will move the hydrant back toward the center of the gravel, one inch at a time, daily.

Plan D. If His Royal Highness, Sir Maxwell, doesn't go along with that, I may consider removing the gravel (Grrrrrrr!) and installing Astroturf or something silly like that for his dainty paws. Such a WUSS!

But he did use it.....and another patch of lawn will live to be green another day!

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