Posted by: Bonnie Anderson | July 13, 2011

The Strange Case of Blondie the Dog

When we moved to Florida we were able to get a dog.  I wanted a baby, but we figured a dog would be easier to deal with while Bob was finishing up school and I had to work fulltime.  It was me who initiated getting a dog, but after we brought our puppy home, she was Bob’s dog.  We named her Blondie.  She was a typical puppy.  We had to paper train her, leash train her, the whole nine yards.  She started chewing on stuff, as puppies tend to do, so when we left her alone, we would close her in the kitchen by placing a card table on end to block the door from there to the living room.  It was working fine until one day we returned home to find her in the kitchen and a pile of doggie pooh in the living room, so it wasn’t long before we gave her the run of both rooms when we were gone.

One day I called Bob from work to tell him I was running a little late and let him know when I’d be home.  He sounded a little funny and told me to take my time.  I didn’t think too much about it until I returned home and found Blondie barricaded in the kitchen and Bob using the sewing machine.  We had just recently saved enough money to replace our hand-me-down couch with its broken back legs with brand new furniture – a couch and a chair.  We were so happy to have something new, and apparently Blondie was, too.  While we were gone she chewed every cushion and part of the frame.  Bob had come home to find a disaster area in our apartment.  He was trying to destroy the evidence and fix the cushions the best he could before I got home and killed the dog.

Blondie must have realized that her life was in danger, because she had chewed a hole into our wall in an effort to flee (or should I say flea) the crime scene.  I don’t know why we kept her – maybe it was because there was nothing left for her to destroy or maybe it was because we were stupid (most likely the latter). 

She tried our patience again during her second year with us when we thought she might have been possessed.  She did a Jekyll and Hyde thing when it came to her toys and she would curl back her lip and growl at us while hovering over her toy and peering at us through red eyes.  Then she would recover and prance around like nothing had happened and want to curl up on our lap.  Once when I tried to get her toy from her she went berserk and I jumped up on our kitchen counter to get away from her.  (I was much younger then.)  It really was looking more and more like Bob and I were the dumbest dog owners in the world to keep this crazed dog.  We didn’t have kids then, so we prayed and worked with her for a couple of weeks until she got over it.  We even sent her to a professional for help (our beloved vet, Dr. Blum).  In our later years, we most likely would not have kept her, but by the time she was about two, she turned into a great pet and she lived to be about 14 years old.  See what a little love and patience (and ignorance) can do.

My Youngest Two with Blondie in1991

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Responses

  1. Love it, the joys of puppies and thank goodness they grow. I share your pain. My old girl is 19 and I still remember those days

    • 19 – wow, she’s getting up there. That part is harder than the puppy part.

  2. Bonnie, that was too funny. I tried to read it to my husband but he couldn’t make out a word I was saying. i couldn’t speak for laughing. I had tears rolling down my face. our dog acts possessed too when it comes to her food, but I wouldn’t be wihout her. xx

    • I’m a little that myself with peanut M&Ms.

  3. What a cutie she was! I’m glad to hear she turned out to be a good pet after 2 years. The hardest part with dogs is when they’re young. If you can just wait out the first few years they end up being awesome pets…it’s just the waiting that is so hard. LOL

    • You’re right. Now we watch our married kids go through breaking in their pets. Ah, memories.


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