an open letter from bailey
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Hey guys, Bailey here. I’ve been meaning to do a blog post for a while now, but these giant paws of mine make it really tough to type. Fortunately, I somehow managed to convince my small-pawed brother Felix to help me out (even though I did I push open the bathroom door and eat all [...]
Hey guys, Bailey here.
I’ve been meaning to do a blog post for a while now, but these giant paws of mine make it really tough to type. Fortunately, I somehow managed to convince my small-pawed brother Felix to help me out (even though I did I push open the bathroom door and eat all of his breakfast this morning).
So here’s the deal, I’ve never really told my side of this remodel story. Sure, I may look like a young pup, but I’ve been around during this whole crazy ride…
In fact, I remember the first time they brought me over to the new house (I wasn’t even a year-old yet!). They didn’t trust me to stay in the partially fenced backyard, so they tied me up to that nasty teal gate. Let’s be honest, I probably could have dragged the whole thing down the block if I’d have thought about it. Even though the yard needed a lot of help, I was pumped about all that space for me to run around in.
For the first month or so and before we actually moved in, Mom and Dad used to bring me over to the house in the evenings. They still didn’t trust me to stay away from the walls they were painting and so out came the leash. It’s kinda embarrassing being tied up in your own home, y’know?
After we got all settled in, it was time for me to get to work. Here’s dad and me fixing the old work truck we bought from a farm dog up north.
But let’s be honest, after a while I grew tired of all the work. (What? I’m a golden!) Some nights I’d hide in the shop and hope no one missed me.
On more than one occasion, I’ve also questioned the sanity of my parents (I’m giving Dad “the look”). I suppose at some point though I realized that I would just have to trust that I wouldn’t be stuck in the house forever. And I wasn’t…Dad built a sweet stoop where we sit on nice days and drink beer.
But along with the low points, there have been some great milestones too. That basement project was no barrel of monkeys. I felt bad that Dad spent all that time digging away at the dirt in the crawl space. If I wasn’t so lazy, I could have lent my diggers.
I admit, I haven’t always had the vision that my architect parents have. Mom tried to show me what the view from the future kitchen would be like but for some reason it just wasn’t clicking.
My favorite part of this whole remodel thing is probably all of the car rides to home improvement stores. I especially love Home Depot. Not only is there usually stale popcorn on the floor, but I get all kinds of hugs and belly rubs. Lowes is ok, but I had an accident there one time and have been too ashamed to go back. You never want to be the dog that brings out the “caution wet floor” sign if you know what I mean.
I like to think that I’ve really matured as a DIY dog over the years and by the time we tackled the big interior gut job in ’10, I was ready. Mom and Dad still don’t give me a lot of responsibilities, so I’ve generally taken it upon myself to supervise.
I also supply moral support and encouragement. DIY dogs, this is very important.
And when I’ve got some downtime, I lay in piles of sawdust. What, you haven’t tried this? It’s bliss!
I’m also a fantastic source for comic relief. Hey guys…it’s just a house y’know. Lighten up! Let’s have an insulation par-tay!
And when we’ve all worked a little too hard, I let them know when it’s time to power down for the day.
I know this photo doesn’t bode well for my intelligence, but I’m actually just really respectful of boundaries.
A word of caution to you long-haired canines, remodeling can lead to extreme haircuts if you’re not careful. It felt so strange at first, but it was really quite liberating.
Last summer they took away my backyard access and I thought I was tripping in some kind of M.C. Escher drawing…
…but I soon realized that you were just building me a sweet deck to lounge on.
“Looking good guys! Oh…little to the left…there you go!”
So why this blog post and why now? As you can see, I’ve been through a lot these last 5 1/2 years and it’s time for a little Bailey pampering. But I don’t have a job or any money, so I’m relying on you guys to help me out. Here’s the deal – if my parents win this contest thing they’ve entered, I get a new yard. With real plants…that I can pee on! You’ve seen what I’ve had to work with and it isn’t pretty. Seriously, every morning I go out and smell the winter daphne because it’s the only plant in the yard. To make matters worse, this morning Mom and Dad made fun of me when I came in because I had tiny pink flowers on my back (so humiliating!).
Also, I don’t want to ruin the surprise but I think they’re turning the TV room into a bedroom for me. Last weekend they installed this weird elevated dog bed. I’m not sure how to get in and out of it just yet, but seeing as how I’ve never had my own bed I guess I don’t know what to expect. But still, I know we’re going to need some more cash to pimp out my room. And I don’t know why, but there seems to be some kind of deadline attached to getting all this stuff done.
Felix and I have been keeping tabs on the vote count and the gap between 1st and 2nd place in our category is shrinking quickly. I’m not that good at math, but Felix says he’s worried. So that’s why I’m asking you, Bailey lovers of the world, to click over to that Cool Small contest thing and show me your support. In return, I will send you a virtual nuzzle. And when you see pictures of me rolling around in a giant pile of fresh compost, you’ll know that you had a small part in making that dream a reality.
Love, Bailey (and Felix, cat typist extraordinaire)
Filed under: misc., pets