Bad to the Bone

Hello, my name is Duke Tux Clabaugh-Shaulis and I have some confessions to make. Behind this warm smile and these sweet eyes is my true self, which is not so grand.

I am a naughty nibbler, an alcoholic, an addict, a killer,  a bully, and a yeller.

Just the other day I was caught gnawing on Marlee’s red Tom shoes. My mother and father were sitting in the living room watching baseball, when they glanced down and saw Marlee’s favorite footwear hanging out the side of my mouth. I was caught in the act. There were no excuses. I was ashamed. This wasn’t the first time I tried chewing shoes, but it was the first time I was caught. I guess that ends my shoe chewing days…at least for now. My name is Duke, and I am a naughty nibbler.

On Thursday, Marlee made Zach’s favorite mixed drink, a Vodka Tonic with lime. There it was sitting between the two in the cup holder just begging to be sipped. I crawled up on my mom’s lap, just like I always do. She thought I was just coming up to cuddle. Little did she know, I had another agenda in mind. I looked to my left and than looked to my right. No one was watching. I leaned down to the solo cup and started lapping up the alcoholic beverage. After three tongue fulls of Vodka Tonic, I was smacked across my dairy air. “Bad boy. You cannot drink that!” I guess my secret is out. I passed out on the couch like a bum on a bar stool. I was a little tipsy. My name is Duke, and I am an alcoholic.

                                                           

Sometimes I refuse to eat my dog food, until I am given a dental stick or raw hide bone. I cannot get enough of those tasty treats. My mom and dad have to take my bone away from me and put it on the dresser until I eat my dinner. However, when they turn away, I jump up on the dresser, and grab my bone with my two front paws. It falls to the ground, I run down the stairs, and I continue to chew it, with my half eaten bowl of kibbles still sitting on the bedroom floor. If they come down the stairs after me, I hide the bone or treat under the TV stand or chair. They are not taking it away from me. I cannot live without it. My name is Duke, and I am an addict.

                  

I have had a lot of stuffed animal friends in my six months of living with Marlee and Zach. My first friend was a brown monkey. However, I ended up not liking that brown monkey. He did not squeak and he did not move. He just laid still on my side of the couch. It drove me nuts. It made me mad. So I chewed his head off. I then received a blue and orange duck as my next friend. He was better then the monkey. He squeaked, he was tough, and he was fun. However, one night I caught him lying next to my mother. I got jealous. I got mad. So I ripped his squeaker out and all of his stuffing. The duck was no more. Two days ago, I received another duck. This one was big, it was green, and it flew across the room when Zach pulled on its bill. That same night it came flying across the room and smacked me in the face. I got mad. I got angry. I bit a hole in its back. It is still alive, but it is hiding from me now. My name is Duke, and I am a killer.  

                        

                               “And all that remains of Mr. Duck is the piece of fluff on my lip.”

                                                                    

Once a week, I go home with Marlee to see my Aunt Calee and my grandparents. Calee has so many fun toys. I love playing with all of them. However, when Calee tries to play with one of her toys, I grab the other end in my mouth and yank it out of hers. If she is playing with her ball, I take my paws, and swat it from out in front of her. I know they are her toys, but I want them to myself. After all, I am the guest. If she refuses to give me a toy, I will growl and bark at her. Sometimes I even jump on top of her and start to wrestle and bite. My name is Duke, and I am a bully.

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Recently I have been more mouthy. If mom and dad try to take me off of the bed or even the couch, I grunt, I growl, I moan, and I bark. I am at the apartment all day, while they are at work and out to dinner. That is my bed and that is my couch. I deserve to be there. Also, if they try to take my toys or bone away from me at dinner time or bed time, I get upset. I am not hungry and I am not tired. I just want to chew my toys and eat my bone. I don’t care that it is 11 o’clock at night. I also bark at noises and people outside. If I hear a car, I bark. If I see headlights, I bark. And, if I see people walking past the front door, I bark. I know that I am just a dog, but this is my house, and I don’t want anyone I don’t know coming near it. My name is Duke, and I am a yeller.

So as you can see, I am in the dog house a lot.

My name is Duke, and I am bad to the bone.

  

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2 thoughts on “Bad to the Bone

  1. as the grandma of 2 cats (that live with me) and a dog who lives with his mom and dad I know having little fur people can be a challenge at times. I wouldn’t trade if for anything!! Even when your awaken in the middle of the night and you’re sure there’s a burglar in the house and it ends up being 2 cats who slept all day and are literally tearing the house apart chasing each other all night.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m completely obsessed with my dog. He’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I just hope my blog encourages people to want to get something as special as Duke.

      Like

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