Mea Culpa


I know this is absurd. Last week one dog wrote a post, this week its the other dog.  But here’s the thing: this dog really has a great story.  I swear, I am NOT making any of this up.  Paul and I came home Monday night to find a mystery in our house.  A major mystery…..Sadie would like to explain what happened.


Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this post.  I am eager to confess my crimes.

I am a GOOD dog.  A very good dog.  I come home when I am called, even when I am outside on my own, off of my leash.  I lift my paw when someone says “paw”.  I only poop outside.

I rarely escape from the fence.

OK, there was that one time when the Master forgot to fully close the spot between the gate and the back steps.  I tried to ignore the gaping hole, but……Well.  Let us just say that my baser instincts prevailed.  I got out.  I took my partner, the Beautiful Dope, with me.

The Master and Mistress were most unhappy.

I have not escaped since.

I am a Good, Good Dog.

And that is why I am now so wracked with guilt.  I must confess. I must tell my story.

It was a lovely, sunny day.  The yard was warm.  The lovely snow had melted into the earth.  The Beautiful Dope (he calls himself “The Wolf King”, but I know better) yipped and barked and asked me to go outside with him.  We went out onto the deck, and down into the fenced in yard.  Ah, the sun was sweet!

We did what dogs do on lovely days. We walked around the fence, smelled some old pee, put down some new pee, sniffed the wind, barked a little at the leaves and the grass.  It was wonderful.  After a while, I found a place under one of the bushes where I had dug up all of the grass back in the summer.  I sniffed, I dug a bit, I peed a few times.  I decided to go under the droopy bush for a while.

Aaah. Such pleasure.

I laid in the soil……um…mud….for a while.  It felt very soothing.  After a bit, I came out from under the bush.  My fur was wonderfully thick and coated.  I felt fabulous.

I headed into the house for a drink of water.  Up the deck steps, in through the little doggie door, across the dining room and into the kitchen.  I took a delightful cool drink, then did what doggies do.

I shook my head.

Brrrrrrrppppppp!  The sound of mud droplets hitting the floor was like music to my ears.   I wandered around the living room, shaking my head as I went.   Brrrrrrrrpppppp!  Such a wonderful sound!

I climbed up onto the leather couch and had a satisfying nap.  The mud that encrusted my ear and neck crumbled onto the sofa and pattered onto the floor. I barely noticed.

I am a dog.  We like mud.

And then the day moved on.  It began to get dark.  The Beautiful Dope started to make noises about dinner. “I wanna eat, I wanna eat, I wanna eat”, he whined on and on.

“Soon”, I told him. “The Master and Mistress will be home soon.”

It hit me like a thunderbolt.

Gahhhhh!  I was suddenly in a panic.  The Mistress would be home soon!  The MISTRESS! The one who constantly cleaned the floor!  She would be home soon!  She would be furious if she saw the mud!

She would be horrified by my filthy, clumpy fur!!!

Oh, dear Lord, what should I do!!!!????!!!!

Let me repeat: I am a GOOD dog!  Unlike some dogs I could name, I am never in trouble!

I began to pace around in circles, leaving more mud droplets behind me.

What would the Mistress want me to do?, I asked myself.  I pictured her, my dear Mistress. I pictured her brushing my thick, black fur, and calling me, “beautiful girl”.  I got a little misty eyed, I must admit.  My Mistress is kind, and gentle and loving. Unless I’m really filthy.  Then she gets kind of……..Well.  There was no need to think about it.

I gulped.  I could feel the fur on my shoulder crusting and clumping. I could hear the clods of dirt hitting the floor.

Oh, what should I do!?

Suddenly, it came to me. If the Mistress was home, she would tell me to “Take a bath”.   I knew that’s what she’d say.  I knew it.

My duty was clear to me.

Slowly, reluctantly, I made my way down the hall.  I went into the bathroom.  I sighed.  I do not like baths.  I do not like the water soaking into my fur, falling into my eyes, making me smell like horrible flowery shampoo.

And yet i knew my duty.

I used my big square head to slide the shower curtain open. Ugh!  A big smudge of mud was left on the curtain.  The Mistress would be displeased!  Red Alert!!!!

I stepped into the tub (oh, man, I hated the cold wet feeling on my paws…!.) I tried to remember what should happen next. Ah, yes, the water should go on!  But how…..? I wasn’t sure.  I tried to use my head, but it was no use.  I rubbed my head all around the faucet, and on the wall of the tub, but no water came out.  I did manage to scrape some of the muck off, which I could tell based on the big brown mud splotches on the tub wall.

I did my best! I tried to get the mud off of me, no matter how wonderful it felt on my skin.

Have I mentioned that I am a very, very good dog?

I turned around and around in the tub, hoping to get myself clean. I did my best.  I did!  I left huge muddy pawprints on the bottom of the tub, to match the big smears on the wall.  I began to wish I had thumbs; maybe then I’d be able to turn the water on!

When it was obvious that I wasn’t going to get any cleaner, I climbed out of the tub.  I did what any wet dog would do at that moment.  I stepped into the hall and shook as hard as I could possibly shake.

Holy mudballs!!!!  The entire wall was now covered in mud splots, the floor was coated in tiny pieces of dirt and mud, the tub was marked by dog-face shaped mud swipes.  And the Mistress would be home any minute…….

What could I do?!   I heard the sound of the car in the driveway.  “Help me!”, I called to the beautiful dope, “The Mistress will find my mud blobs everywhere!”

“I wanna eat, I wanna eat, I wanna eat”, he answered in his usual articulate way.  I do love him, but in a time of crisis , he is somewhat lacking.

The Mistress came into the garage, and began to climb the stairs to the kitchen.  I heard her call out to us in greeting.  The Beautiful Dope raced toward her with his tongue hanging out.  Nothing bothers him, truly.

I, on the other hand, was wracked with guilt.  I lowered myself to the floor, so that my belly was dragging and my head was down. I made my eyes as big and round as I possibly could.  The Mistress did not notice.

I waited.

Within a very short time, I heard her voice, filled with disbelief.

“What the……? Where did all this mud come from?” I heard her entering the bathroom.  The shower curtain slid open. “What?!!  Who….?  Sadie?  Did you take a BATH?!”

I crawled forward, wagging my filthy tail.  “I am a good dog”, I whined to my dear Mistress.  “I am a VERY good dog!”

15 thoughts on “Mea Culpa

    • Hey momshieb — sorry about the kid’s blatant interference with your child-rearing techniques. Ever since I put Dragon Speaks on the ‘puter, I just can’t control him.

      BTW: loved your pet-posts. So much so that today’s blog on “Sentenced to life in the chair” will be all about them. Hope you don’t mind.


      • Oh, they say they’re flattered! Sadie is slightly embarrassed of course, but she hopes that some young dog will learn a lesson from her mistakes. Tucker thinks he’s going viral and is prepping for an appearance on Ellen.
        And don’t worry about Baby Bear; I understand how little control we really have!


  1. Another great one, Karen….How about a whole book of essays, written by your doggies, of course…Suggested titles — Going to the Dogs, Canine Capers, Pooches in Paradise, Sound Bites — and Barks, Woof and Whine, It’s a Hard Bark Life. And there are likely dozens more…keep writing them and I can get you in touch with a publisher….illustrate it with photos or get an artist to do drawings…it would be a keeper!


    • How about “Sadie and the Wolf King”? You have actually got me thinking about; there are SO many stories we could tell!
      I hope to edit my NaNoWriMo piece soon, but after that I think I will put together some stories!
      Thanks for the boost!


  2. I’m sure it happened EXACTLY this way. I know our dogs use my laptop after I go to bed to maintain their Facebook accounts. I’m sure Bonnie alone has thousands of FB friends clamoring for updates to her fascinating story.


    • Marilyn, I swear, I didn’t know what to think when we saw the muddy foot and face prints in the tub! She hates taking baths…..! So funny, but scary, too.
      Like thinking that the toys come alive at night!


  3. So once again I have tears running all the way down to my feet! You have the funniest dogs in the world…..and such talented story tellers to boot!

    My daughter Terri (pushingonarope) forwarded The Wolf King to me because she KNEW my bladder would take a field trip! Old fool that I am I subscribe to your amazing blog and find myself once again laughing so hard I, well, you know!

    Our “hairy kid” is Murphy. She’s an Australian Shepherd mix… The mix clearly being psychotic!

    She hasn’t had the adventures your guys have had, but I read her both blogs and I could actually see the wheels turning in her head.

    Looking forward to future blogs. You made my day!


    • So nice to “meet” you! I love reading about Terri and Catherine and have followed her for a long time now!
      And I apologize in advance for anything that Murphy does in the future……!


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