I have a feeling Biggie sensed we were up to no good and would be leaving him at the vet/boarding place because this past week he had the mischief in overdrive. I like how my husband puts it, “it’s not that he’s being bad it’s that he’s not doing what I want him to do”. Really though, there were some moments where I just wanted to strangle him, but then I’d see his cute little face and I’d quickly forget his terrible two’s and love him even more for his mishaps.

I think the worst was what happened last Saturday. Every time I think about what he did on his walk I cringe when the image comes up in my mind. He had been really good during his morning walk and as we were approaching a certain corner of the complex where we live I remembered that the night before he had stubbornly tried to fetch something around the bushes. Sure enough as we were nearing that same spot on Saturday morning he picked up his pace and his little booty shook from the extra effort. Ah but I was onto him, so I had him slow down and then walked him close to me. Well he was being so good that after we passed the area I decided to give him the “ok” command which meant I was letting the leash loose so he could roam freely around me. As soon as I did that he started to back track and I thought oh oh, what scent did you pick up? I figured we were in the clear though because we had walked significantly enough away from what I thought was the spot he had tried to go to the evening before. Well suddenly I saw him rush to a little spot and from where I stood it looked like he was about to grab a chunk of fertilized grass so I quickly tugged at the leash but I wasn’t fast enough and he grabbed at something and as I pulled him closer he was chewing intently and I saw something hanging from his mouth and I thought, great he got some kind of wooden stick, dang it. He shouldn’t exactly chew those either. Without taking a second look I reached out my bare hand and grabbed the end of the stick, only to find to my total horror that it was actually the bottom half of a dead birds boney leg!!! I nearly gagged. It was boney, wet (from the rain the night before) and had some grass and feathers still stuck to it. The hard bone Biggie was chomping at was the rest of the leg I presume. I nearly panicked in those few seconds and knew I couldn’t let him eat the entire bone and yet I didn’t want to grab the wet leg of the dead bird again. I tried getting at it with my foot but that wasn’t working and all the while Biggie kept chomping down trying to crack the bone. So finally I just took a deep breath, grabbed the end of the leg, yanked on it and finally Biggie had no choice but to let go and I hurled the leg over to the bushes. I was so pissed, not so much with Biggie but with myself for not having kept a closer eye on him. Just imaging the leg in my mind again makes me cringe. You can bet as soon as I got home I washed my hands under hot water for like 5 minutes!

The rest of the week pretty much became one funny antic after another. One particular day he decided to take matters into his own hands and in a quick instant that my husband turned away, Biggie silently managed to steal a piece of toast from my husband’s plate that was on the counter and run off in delight chomping away. Then a couple nights ago, I accompanied my husband to the jacuzzi and when we got back we found Biggie had pulled my backpack off the dining table chair and all my books and notebooks were strewn around the living room. Luckily none of them were torn. He was trying to find a treat in the pockets. Unfortunately this resulted in the distruction of my backpack. Lol!

Well despite all this I love this little beast and can’t wait to see him again when we return. I wonder if when Biggie turns 3 these moments will end or if he’ll atleast be more subdued? Wishful thinking.