Einstein, aka Little Dog

Einstein. Little Dog. Sometimes jerk and sometimes cuddler extraordinaire.

Einstein was pretty much not feeling his tip-top self until maybe a month and a half ago. Lots of trips outside, especially in the middle of the night. Special prescription dog food, a couple extra vet appointments, and now he seems to be back on track.

Here’s a list of things he’s ate: a hole in the carpet; part of an old, vintage chair arm (that already had a hole – he was just helping make its appearance more known); sticks; Dave’s wallet; extension cord (that wasn’t plugged in, oh, boy). (To our knowledge, none of these things were connected to his sickness. They were just bonuses.)

Einstein learned how to escape his kennel. His wire, door-latched kennel. I came home one day and Einstein should have been in his kennel … and yet, he greeted me at the door. Huh. I must have not latched the door completely, I thought. But then it happened again. And a third time. Little Houdini unlatches the top latch and somehow sneaks his way out. Because of the dangers involved with the escape, we’ve begun to let the dogs roam when we leave. Nothing has been chewed or destroyed. (Yet.)

He’s a sock stealer and of great annoyance to his older brother. But he’s also pretty darn sweet and cuddly. Smart too. We start obedience classes this week. He continues to get car sick when we reach the one hour mark in motion; still hoping that ceases as he grows older.